


Of Wolves And Souls

by CaspianOfTheDead



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Bad Communication, Cuddling, Dirty Talk, Eventual Smut, I'm drunk and I have no plan, Jealousy, Other, Possessive Behaviour, Runes, Size Kink, bad awkward flirting, bad editing- actually a complete lack of it, cum kink, mc is a lil bold, protective muriel, tags will be added as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2019-11-19 15:46:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 33,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18137726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaspianOfTheDead/pseuds/CaspianOfTheDead
Summary: Muriel catches you in the woods. Life is complicated.





	1. Traps

**Author's Note:**

> hah back at it again with the fuckin uhhhhhhh fics

You closed the shop and warded it, checking over your shoulder nervously. You knew Asra had told you not to… but you couldn’t help yourself when it came to this kind of thing. You just had to. 

 

You snuck into the forest, glancing over your shoulder nervously as you did. Your feet were near silent, but you felt the anxiety in your heart that was always there when you did this. You stole away into the cool shadows of the trees, feeling the occasional bite of a mosquito on your skin as you searched. The occasional herb found its way into your bag, half for your use, but mostly as an alibi. After all, if you were caught, you’d need to be convincing in your excuse. You practiced your story under your breath as you worked. 

 

“I was only harvesting herbs, sir,” You breathed as your fingertips were cut open on sharp wire, “I own a shop just outside the market, the one with the purple flag, I can show you the herbs I’ve been picking, look, here!” You hissed as you ripped the stakes from the earth and snapped them. 

 

You stalled as you heard the movements of a heavy body in the distance. You cut the wire of the snare you were disabling, then uprooted the stake and threw it aside. You stood, taking quiet steps toward the source of the noise. After a few moments, you caught sight of it. 

 

A beautiful, massive wolf, caught in a bear trap and scrabbling frantically at it. You exhaled heavily, cursing the poachers who set them. Just the week before you had found a dead fox in one of the snares. You’d cried for a good half hour over it. 

 

You stepped closer and let out a little hiss to let the wolf know you were there. You held out your hands in an effort to reassure her as she caught sight of you and began snarling. 

 

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, I’m not the one who set the trap, I want to spring ya, it’s okay, look, it’s okay,” You said, gesturing at the trap and holding your hands out. You hadn’t even considered the idea that she would, but… 

 

She relaxed. The wolf crept back, her ears flat to her skull, her eyes wide, her tail between her legs, but her snarl gone as you focussed your attention on her trapped hind leg. 

 

It was definitely broken, and cut badly, but the trap hadn’t severed it internally, which was a blessing. You could fix it. You could free her and you could fix it. 

 

You reached the trap and knelt slowly beside it, glancing up at the wolf occasionally to make sure she wouldn’t attack you. Her green eyes were steady on you, even as her breaths came laboured from the pain. You hummed under your breath, low and calm, trying to keep your movements slow and unthreatening as you reached for the cold jaws of the trap. You used a spell to force the jaws apart, and as her leg came free, the wolf yelped so loud you flinched, and she limped away. She tried to bear weight on her leg, but it buckled and she yelped again. You let the trap snap closed and crushed it into scrap with another spell before reaching forward again. 

 

“Baby, Come here, let me-” But you heard thundering footsteps and bolted forward, turning your back on the wolf and spreading your arms wide. A massive, hulking figure cloaked in black came over the hill, metal clinking heavily as they charged toward you.

 

“Stop right there!” You bellowed, your heart pounding in your chest. The figure dropped his hood, and you were confronted by a dark haired man with startling green eyes and a furious look on his face. 

 

“Get away from her…” He snarled, his voice, like his footsteps, brought thunder and storm clouds to mind. You snarled right back, leaning forward. 

 

“No! I’m not going to let you hurt her, you filthy poacher!” You reached behind you with one hand and cast a healing spell, holding it over the wolf’s leg, hoping it would at least mend the bone enough that she’d be able to get away. You poured all your energy into the healing spell. There was no way you would escape anyway. This man could clearly outrun you, and there was no question of fighting him. You carried no weapons. The man stiffened. 

 

“What did you… just call me?”

 

“I called you a poacher, you bastard!” You spat, holding your free hand toward him and trying to look threatening. This man… he had to be seven feet tall… and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was covered in straps, chains and bright silver scars. Not to mention muscle, and plenty of it. You swallowed. This was exactly why Asra had told you not to destroy the traps. “ _ One of these hunters will catch you one day, and you think they’re going to be gentle when they do? _ ”

 

You bit your lip.  _ Sorry, master… _ You felt the wolf’s bone click back into place and let out a sigh. At least you saved one last life before you… actually, you had no idea what this man  _ would _ do to you. Have you arrested? Kill you himself to cut out the middleman? If he could trap animals like the wolf, surely he would have no qualms killing you. You glared back up at him and brought your hands out wide again, just as the wolf slunk out from behind you. 

 

But she didn’t run away. She just trotted up to the man and licked his hand. Your eyes shot wide. “What…” 

 

“You thought… _ I _ did that? I thought  _ you _ did that,” The man mumbled, waving in the direction of the ruined trap. You started to scramble back. 

 

“You’re not a poacher?”

 

The man hesitated again, looking down at the wolf. The next sentence he hissed was to her. “Are you okay, Inanna?” 

 

_ Inanna _ , the wolf, licked his hand again and wagged her tail once as an answer. You cleared your throat and got to your feet, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and clearing your throat. 

 

“Well… as  _ neither _ of us are poachers…”

 

But the man had narrowed his eyes at you again. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and swayed. Inanna’s injuries were completely healed, but it had taken everything you had. Even standing was taking more effort than you’d like to admit. 

 

“Why’d you do that?” The man snapped, still sounding supremely unfriendly. You shook your head, half to indicate you wouldn’t answer, half in a desperate attempt to clear it. The man stepped closer, towering over you as you swayed on the spot. “What… What’s wrong with you?”

 

“Nothing, leave me alone…” You tried to turn, but staggered into the nearest tree, gripping it desperately for support.

 

“What’s happening?” The man reached forward, but you waved him off angrily. 

 

“Just… Take Inanna and… Ah… get her somewhere s-safe. This part of the woods is… always littered with them-”

 

“Are you the one who’s been… the traps?” The man asked. You laughed under your breath.

 

“What are you? A royal guard?” You wheezed, trying to straighten up, staggering forward a few steps. “I just get… a little tuckered out from the healing thing, I’ll be fine. Gotta… nap…”

 

“You can’t sleep here. It’ll be obvious… you did it, and… you… you’ll get caught,”

 

“I’ve already been caught once today. I fancy my odds,”

 

“...Caught?”

 

“You caught me,” You pointed out, waving your bloody palms at him and stumbling, “Red handed,”

 

The world lurched under your feet, and your eyes shot wide, but strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you clean from the rebellious earth and toward something much more solid and unyielding: The stranger’s chest. You hissed, your eyes sliding shut and your brow furrowing. 

 

“You gotta gimme your… name, wolf boy,”

 

“...Muriel,” He grunted reluctantly, shifting his grip on you and starting to walk through the woods in long footsteps. He covered more ground in a step than you did in three and you found your eyes slipping closed with the rock of him. You forced them back open, you couldn’t trust a stranger, you couldn’t fall asleep in his arms just because you wanted to.

 

But Inanna trusted him. Inanna trusted him, and a voice that wasn’t yours in your head told you that wolves could see a person’s soul. If Inanna saw Muriel’s soul and stood by his side the way she did… Still. What fool of a person would trust so quickly?

 

You fought to keep awake, to keep eyes on Muriel’s scowling face, but your exhaustion fought back, and you eventually came to the point where you couldn’t fight anymore.

 

“Please…” You said, and you’d never admit it was in a voice like crying, like a sob, “Please don’t hurt me until I wake up,”

 

Muriel drew to a halt, and he stared down at you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed, and the rest of you was falling away from awareness, from the waking world, but you heard that low, rumbling voice all the same.

 

“I won’t hurt you at all…”


	2. Eggs and Onions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Muriel doesn't do well with company. company is you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gues who's drunk again? ME. It's me. It's usually me.

You awoke with a start and promptly hurled a small fur across the massive bed that you were in. You looked around with wide, panicked eyes, and scrambled to your feet. The last thing you remembered was trying to heal a wolf’s broken leg. How did you wind up in a dark, warm hut filled with carefully carved furniture and little animal figures. You ran toward the door and tried to open it, but it was warded with a protective spell from the outside. You swore and looked at the window above the table, but it was warded too. You were locked in.

 

Your memory was by no means the best, but… to forget how you got to a place like this. You stiffened. You looked at the furs on the bed. Tattered at the edges, well worn, but there were some plenty. 

 

You must have been caught my a poacher and knocked out. You grit your teeth. Before you could heal Inanna’s leg, too.

 

You paused again.  _ Inanna? _ You ran through your memory again. You hadn’t named her, but you were  _ certain _ that the wolf’s name was Inanna. You even had a notion that you had managed to heal her. The more you focused on her, the more you could remember. 

 

You paced the floor, trying to remember what had happened but focusing on Inanna. You had freed her. You had crushed the trap. You had… had panic in your chest as you healed her leg behind your back. You’d almost fainted. 

 

The door opened, and you scrambled backward, hunching down and backing into a wall. There was a truly massive man in the doorway, holding a basket of eggs and a bag of feed. He looked at you, wound tight like a spring and watching him closely, and he sighed.

 

“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,”

 

You looked around and grimaced. “Are you the one who set those traps?”

 

The man frowned, but walked past you and to a shelf, placing the egg basket on the table a he passed it. He took something from a jar and put it into a little hand sewn pouch, drawing the string tight and sighing heavily. He held it out to you with a miserable expression.

 

“Here,” He snapped. You crept up quickly, sliding it from his hand and drawing back again, keeping your eyes on him. He looked at you, and for a moment, something that wasn’t a frown took over his face. Just a second. Then it was gone.

 

“What?” You asked, not in reference to anything specifically, but hoping for the man to explain something. You peered into the pouch. Myrrh. 

 

The smell curled through your senses, your memories, clearing away the fog that hung over the man in front of you. You looked back up at him. “Muriel?”

 

“You act like Inanna when she was a pup,” He said, turning away from the myrrh on the shelf and taking up the eggs, hanging them from a hook overhead that you’d never have been able to reach and pulling a few from it. He reached down and pulled a pan, promptly cracking the eggs into it and setting them on the fire. “... cagey,”

 

You sniffed loudly. It wasn’t the first time you’d been compared to a dog. You weren’t sure if Muriel meant it like other people did though. You watched him, tracking his every movement. He seemed perfectly happy not speaking, so you made no effort to break the silence. After a few minutes, he looked up from the eggs he was cooking and frowned at you.

 

“You’re staying…”

 

You tilted your head. “Is that a question or are you telling me?”

 

Muriel blinked. “A question…”

 

A laugh almost found its way from you, but you held it fast. He called you cagey. “Do you want me to?”

 

Muriel, at this, looked very conflicted. He looked halfway between pointing at a nearby chair and telling you to make yourself comfortable and shouting at you to leave. You absentmindedly turned he pouch over in your hand and ran your fingers over the rough hewn cloth. It was cut from a feed bag. It made you smile. If only all your memories were so easily won back.

 

“You’re weak. Shouldn’t leave until you eat. Then go,”

 

You look back up at him and smile. “Okay. What do you have? I could cut vegetables… or...”

 

“No,” Muriel said, scowling, “You’re weak. And I don’t need your help. Just… sleep more,”

 

You frowned. “I’m fine. Just needed sleep. If that means you’re kicking me out…”

 

Muriel straightened up and slid the eggs onto a plate. He shot you a sharp look, then gestures to a little alcove in the far corner. You walked around him, careful not to draw too close, then nipped into the little section. 

 

It was like a pantry. Bundles of dried herbs, fresh veggies, rice in jars. You took three carrots from a bundle and a bundle of green onions, then took a plate from Muriel’s pile while he wasn’t looking. You set them down on the table and took your knife from its sheath in your bag. Muriel looked over and stiffened as you began to cut the heads off of the carrots. 

 

“You had a knife,” Muriel snapped. You glanced up at him. “You didn’t use it when you thought I would hurt you,”

 

“For cutting snares and things. I don’t carry weapons,”

 

“Knives are weapons,”

 

“Knives are tools. They only harm when they’re used as weapons,” You replied, keeping your eyes on the onions as you chopped them. Muriel shifted, and then turned his back on you.

 

“You thought I was going to hurt you. You still didn’t use it,”

 

“Do you think I should have hurt you then?”

 

Muriel scowled, but you just walked over to his side and held the plate out to him at arms length. He reached up and took it, dumping it all into the skillet and stirring it. 

 

“Do you need more eggs?”

 

Muriel grunted, so you dragged a chair under the egg basket and stood on it, reaching up and trying to catch the bottom of the wicker.

 

Muriel glanced at you, then shook his head, standing reaching up easily and hooking the basket down. He handed it to you, and you were struck by how close you were with him. That you could look at him in the eyes now, though not on a level, nearer to it. He seemed to realise it too, and blinked. 

 

“You’re small like Inanna was when she was a pup, too,” He said, then he turned and sat back down to mind the vegetables. You snorted and plucked three more eggs from the basket, bringing them over and handing them to him. He cracked them into the pan without a word, and you set the basket on the table, then turned the chair to watch Muriel cook.

 

“Open a window,” Muriel said calmly, “It’s smoky in here,”

 

You clicked your tongue. “I don’t know your wards,” You pointed out. 

 

“Jera, Kaunaz, and Nauthiaz, trace them one after another on the door,”

 

“Runic, then?” You laughed. “Nauthiaz. Interesting choice,” You traces the symbols in the steamy window, one after another, and it sprung open. 

 

Muriel flushed. “Well. It is… a necessity,” He said, clearing his throat. You smiled. 

 

“I woulda used Algiz,” 

 

“And you think that would be hard to guess?”

 

“Tiwaz?”

 

Muriel paused, bringing a thumb to his bottom lip. “... Do you always take issue with other people’s runs interpretation?”

 

You laughed, and he stared at you. “No, just yours, you’re special,” 

 

Muriel flushed and ducked his head. You smirked and looked out of the window again. 

 

“I’m special, huh?”

 

“Very,” You hissed, resting your chin on your hand and watching birds sing to the sky from the canopy of the treetops, “I’ve never met a soul like you,” 

 

Muriel slipped more food from the skillet onto the plate and placed it on the table, then gestured to you to follow as he sat and began doling food onto his own plate. You mimicked him, and you both ate in silence for a while. You finished, and for a moment, the pair of you just stared across the table at one another. 

 

Eventually you got to your feet. 

 

“I… I’ll get out of your hair,”

 

Muriel frowned, but said nothing.

 

“I’ll… Well I probably won’t see you around, as we’ve never met before. It was… nice… you know. To meet you. Twice. Thanks for being… not a poacher. I know you… Okay. Well, bye,” You turned and trotted out of the door, passing Inanna as she snatched a dragonfly out of the air and crunching it. Wings hung from her jowls as she turned toward you, watching you speed into the woods again. You shot her a nervous smile and pulled your bag further up onto your shoulder. 

 

You could have sworn you heard the hut door creep open as you stole through the trees. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs!!!!:
> 
> Medusa, Kailee Morgue
> 
> Talk Too Much, COIN


	3. Runelore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s trouble in the market place and Muriel’s runes tattle on him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yeah, i’m learning runes and muriel is just.... such a rune guy to me. idk.

Your life continued very much as normal as the hours turned into days, and the days into weeks- though throughout them all curled the thick scent of myrrh and the memory of Muriel. His grim face. His egg basket. His wolf. More than anything, it was the wolf that had brought you to an understanding of him. A wolf saw a person’s soul, and Inanna trusted him. He must be something special.

 

Your fingers healed, and your master went to and fro, never really staying for long. You tried to deny your loneliness, but it caught you at night in your empty bed. In the cold of the night you felt the empty side that asra only sometimes filled. You wondered what it would be like to be held. To hold someone.

 

You turned over and forced yourself to sleep. eventually your cupboards emptied, and you forced yourself out to market. You cleaned up the shop, you didn’t hoist the flag overhead and you warded the door as you left. You hesitated there, fingers still touching the wood, and quickly traced a runelock into it, one for Nauthiz. You felt watched as you did it, but when you checked over your shoulder you couldn’t see anyone.

 

You walked down into the marketplace and began shopping, buying your fruits and vegetables and looking wistfully at a thread cutter pendant in the silversmith's booth. Your hesitation cost you, however. The brewer caught sight of you and began his usual stream of compliments.

 

“Oh, look, it’s the cute little witch! Come here and try some mead, love, I promise you’ll like it. I’d love to see your lips on one of my bottles, dear,”

 

You grit your teeth and moved to walk away, but the brewer caught your wrist and pulled you back. 

 

“Darling, stay, why don’t you?” He laughed. His cheeks were flushed. He’d been drinking already.

 

“Let go,” You growled, bristling and trying to appear intimidating. It didn’t seem to work. 

 

“Come on! Don’t be so frigid!”

 

You snarled in his face and tried to pull away again, but he held fast. 

 

“What the hell is wrong with you anyway? ‘m just trying to be nice,”

 

“Take your nice and shove it,” You spat, grasping his wrist and breaking his grip with a yank. He yelled and leapt back, clutching his hand, but you bristled even more at his false innocence act. “Don’t ever touch me again. Also, your mead is watery. Tennison’s is better,” You spat before turning on your heel and stomping away.

 

“Bitch!” He bellowed after you, and you turned and shot him a dirty look. 

 

For a moment, he looked like he might say something else foul, but then his eyes flew wide and the colour drained from his face. You blinked. No one had ever flinched like that from a glare before, you were sure of it, but then came the smell of myrrh, curling through your senses, and not coming from the pouch you had strung around your neck. 

 

You turned, and standing close behind you was Muriel, his hood drawn low, his jaw set angrily as he stared at the brewer. You beamed up at him. 

 

“Hey you! I thought I’d never see you again!”

 

Muriel grunted, then held out his hand over your shoulder, wordlessly asking permission to take you away. You grinned and ducked under it, pulling his arm around your shoulders and laughing. 

 

“I needed to go order some spices for the shop, would you like to come with me?”

 

Muriel was still  _ glaring _ at the brewer’s retreating form, and if looks could kill… You reached up and tapped his chest, trying to catch his attention. 

 

“Muriel? Would you like to come with me? If not you can go wait at the shop, I can tell you how to unlock the wards,”

 

Muriel shifted uncomfortably. “Does… that happen to you….”

 

“Often? Ah, not  _ often _ , but sometimes. Some people aren’t nice. It’s no big deal, normally they don’t get physical like that though. I think he’s been partaking in his own wares today,” You rubbed the blooming bruise on your wrist and smiled up at Muriel. “Boy, did he scram when he realised he was outnumbered,” You tilted your head and hummed, leading Muriel through the crowded stalls, waving at the baker when you passed by. Muriel tensed as someone whistled, but you thought it was likely for him and not you. “I wish I could be more scary. I wish I was intimidating,”

 

“It’s not as fun as you think it is,” Muriel muttered, his eyes darting from person to person, like a watchdog, assessing threats. You laughed.

 

“What, like you’d know? You’re less scary than I am,”

 

Muriel blinked at you. “You were scared when you first met me,”

 

“I was scared because of the situation, not you. Anyone coulda come over that hill and been terrifying- I was afraid I’d be caught... You don’t scare me. Not one bit,”

 

Muriel hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek as you placed an order with the spice merchant. When you were finished, you looked up at him and flashed him a grin. 

 

“Okay?”

 

“I think you not being afraid has more to do with you than me,” Muriel said, ducking his head and frowning. You rolled your eyes.

 

“Oh please. I’m a coward if ever there was one,” 

 

There was a long, very long pause. “Well, we’ll have to add cowards to the list of mythical creatures then, I suppose,”

 

You looked up at him, surprised, and then burst out laughing. Muriel blushed. “Did you… did you just joke?” You asked, reaching up and grabbing the hand he had on your shoulder. He looked sheepish. You lead Muriel out beyond the market, taking the longer, less busy route back to your shop. He pulled his arm from around your shoulders when you cleared the crowd, and you felt a small pang at the loss, cursing your touch starved body.

 

You blushed. Poor Muriel didn’t deserve to have you hanging off of him just because Asra hadn’t been home in a while. He wasn’t used to people, he likely had only touched you because the brewer was being an ass anyway. He made no further effort at conversation, keeping his eyes firmly on the river, watching eels writhing through the currents. 

 

“You don’t often come into town,” You said, almost as a question. Muriel turned back to you, looking surprised.

 

“No, I don’t,” He blinked- it was like he was surprised that you were speaking to him. You swallowed and pressed on.

 

“Did you need something at market?”

 

“No,”

 

You held back a sigh. “... Were you… looking for something?”

 

“You,” He replied, shrugging. You blinked. 

 

“Me? Like, you were looking for me?”

 

“Yes,” 

 

You looked up at him, confused, and he stared back, also looking… very confused.

 

“... I wanted to be sure you got back safe. It’s been… worrying me. But then you weren’t there. So I looked for you. And when I found you, that guy grabbed you. So I went to help, but you got away and he was being… rude…”

 

You laughed. “Aw, you were going to help? Thank you, you’re so sweet,”

 

“You saved Inanna,” He said, like that explained everything. You grinned at him.

 

“Yeah but you already helped me recover from exhaustion weeks ago. We were already even,”

 

“I don’t think we’ll ever be even,”

 

“We’re even,” you said firmly.

 

Muriel shook his head and went back to looking into the river. Soon enough you had reached your shop, and you beamed when you saw Inanna stretched across your doorstep. 

 

“Baby girl!” You said, running forward and kneeling in front of her. She stretched languidly and turned, pressing her head into your chest and wagging her tail as she knocked you off balance. You toppled over, laughing as Inanna licked your cheek and Muriel stood awkwardly over the pair of you, looking a little concerned that you’d been pushed over. You got to your feet and lifted the wards on your door. You shot a glance at Muriel as you carefully traced Nauthiz with your pointer against the wood. His eyes shot wide and he blushed. 

 

The door swung open, and you smiled. “Come in? I have tea, if you’d like to sit and rest for a while,”

 

Muriel hesitated, but Inanna trotted into the building like she owned it. You winked. 

 

“Think someone made the choice for you,”

 

Muriel shrugged and ducked through the doorway. You blinked. It hadn’t struck you when you were outside, or in his own house, but… Muriel was a very large person. He straightened up, and he was on an eye level with the top edge of most of the doorways in the shop. He looked around for a second, and then turned to you, his face flushing when he realised you were watching him, his eyes darting toward the kitchen. 

 

“Asra… is away?”

 

“My master is always away,” You said shortly. A half beat passed, and you straightened up. “You know my master?”

 

Muriel cleared his throat. “Ah… the kitchen is this way?” You squinted at him, but let the subject fall despite your pressing curiosity. His face had reddened even more when you had called Asra your master. 

 

You nodded, and swept past him, trying to come up with a way to pick conversation back up. Muriel lingered in the doorway, even as Inanna skunk past him. You looked around and grabbed a sweet potato from your bag, offering it to her. She took it and trotted to the corner by the window, beginning to crunch away at it as you fed the stove salamander and began to boil water for the tea.

 

“You…” Muriel hesitated, like he was second guessing what he had planned on saying, but when you turned and leaned on the counter, he cleared his throat and pressed on. “You studied runes, then?”

 

“For divination I prefer Cartomancy, ah, we all pick up habits from our teachers, right? But yes. I’ve studied runes,”

 

“... Do you have a set?”

 

You nodded. “Would you like to see them? If you keep an eye on the stove I could go and grab them,”

 

Muriel nodded, and you left the room, trotting out to your room, pulling your rune box off the shelf and hurriedly Wiping the dust off with a shirt from the dirty pile in the corner. You walked back downstairs, and Muriel had already filled the tea kettle and set the mugs carefully on the small scrub wooden table. He looked up when you came in, and gestured for you to sit. You laughed, walking over and taking the seat.

 

“Thank you, but you do know that I’m the host, don’t you?” 

 

Muriel just shrugged and sat down. You placed the box on the table, and drew out the bag, hearing them clink inside. Muriel raised his eyebrows, and you handed the bag to him. He drew them out and turned a few over in his hands. 

 

“Antler?”

 

You shrugged. “Cheap. And easy to get ahold of. I didn’t need anything fancy for my first set,”

 

Muriel nodded, and with a glance at you, put them back into the bag and handed them back to you. He then drew out his own bag, and handed them to you. You took them, examining the dark cloth of the bag first. It was soft and worn, likely cut from an old, ruined cloak, and with a wooden button with a dragonfly carved into it. You smiled, and unbuttoned it, then pulled a rune from it.

 

They were a larger than yours, which made sense for him, but were a little unwieldy in your comparatively tiny fingers. You turned the smooth, sanded wood over in your palm. 

 

“Guess what?” You crowed, looking up at him. He cocked an eyebrow. You laid the rune flat on the table. “Wunjo!”  _ Joy, Ecstasy, Fellowship. _ You thought quickly.

 

Muriel’s lip curled slightly- almost a smile. You beamed.

 

“Hah! You’re having fun!” You grinned. 

 

Muriel flushed and picked Wunjo up. He shrugged, and you relented, handing him back the bag. You wiggled your eyebrows. 

 

“Let’s have a game. It’ll help me brush up on runes, it’s been a while since I last practiced. Whaddaya say?”

 

Muriel shrugged again, but his eyes were twinkling a little, and you wrinkled your nose happily. 

 

“Okay! Let’s pull a rune for a topic and see whether they disagree,”

 

“You want our runes to argue?”

 

“I do this with decks sometimes. Same idea!”

 

“... If you want to…” Muriel said, but he dropped Wunjo back into his bag and began to stir them. 

 

You cast around. “How about we pull one for each of us, and one for our… friendship?” You said, wondering if you’d overstepped by calling your short lived acquaintance a friendship. Muriel’s eyes widened a bit, but he nodded, and you smiled. “Okay, one for Muriel,”

 

You each pulled a rune and laid it on the table. You tilted your head. He frowned at his own chip. 

 

“Mannaz. Of course,” You rooted through your memory for the meaning.  _ … the self? Uh… society and interaction. Creativity- but… _ “There will be no help,” Muriel said, shrugging. “You?”

 

You looked at your own and beamed. “Uruz. It fits!”

 

“... Slavery… being bound...”

 

“Physical strength and speed, um… Freedom, untamed potential, masculinity and…” You blushed. He did too. “You can’t just look at everything as reversed, Muriel,”

 

Muriel crosses his arms. “They’re reversed from where I’m sitting,”

 

“Well,” You said, flashing him a sly smile, “Then I suppose I’m the one who’s reading, because I think that an upright Uruz is a very good way to describe you,” 

 

Muriel flushed even darker, but he uncrossed his arms. He picked the bag back up. “You,”

 

“Me,” You agreed, reaching into your bag and drawing the rune out. You laid it on the table and removed your hand. You frowned. Eihwaz. “Confusion, Weakness,”

 

“... Look who’s reading reversals now,” Muriel almost smiled again. “Reliability, dependability, trustworthiness. Endurance. Defense and protection. Motivation, a sense of purpose,” 

 

You flushed. “What did you get then?”

 

Muriel peeked at his rune, and then slapped his hand back over it, blushing crimson, his eyes wide. You raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“No cheating. Show me,” You said, leaning forward. Muriel swallowed, and drew his hand away. There was Perthro. At first, you were confused.  _ Mysteries… and gambling? _

 

Muriel’s eyes were fixed on the corner of the table nearest him, and his face was bright red still. You paused.

 

 _Lot cup, and…_ **Oh.** You grinned and cleared your throat, taking a sip of your tea to hide some of your face and looking at the rune on the table. You wouldn’t have remembered if it hadn’t been for his reaction. You looked back up at him, wide eyed and embarrassed, and couldn’t help yourself.

 

“Something on your mind, Muriel?” You teased, tilting your head. Muriel shifted a little and crossed his arms again. You laughed. “It’s fine, I’ll take being… mysterious... any day,”

 

Muriel still didn’t look at you, and you smiled. You’d pulled Uruz for him, after all. You paused. Well… it seemed you were both thinking the same thing.  _ Interesting. _

 

“To our friendship,” You said, pulling another rune and holding its edge to Muriel. He sheepishly drew one and clicked it against yours, as though you were toasting. You laid your rune down, and he laid his. 

 

“On three?”

 

“... yes,”

 

You counted and both took your hands away, peering down at the last two runes.

 

“Raido,” Muriel said, peering at your rune. You tapped his.

 

“Dagaz,”

 

_ Communication and new breakthroughs. _

 

You both sat back, looking at one another. eventually, you raised your cup to him with a smile. “Well, cheers. Two non poachers, talking and snapping bear traps,”

 

Muriel tilted his head, but reached forward, bumping his mug against yours so gently it hardly made a sound. You took a long sip, keeping your eyes on him.

 

He looked away, and swept his runes back into his bag. 

 

Soon his mug was empty, and he stood to leave. You watched him move around, wake Inanna, and move toward the door. Just as he made to close it behind himself, you caught it, and pushed it wide again.

 

“Ah… come back tomorrow? Pull runes with me again?”

 

Muriel swallowed and looked around, then slid his massive, rough hand along the edge of the door. “... Come to the hut? After you close… if you’d… like…”

 

You beamed up at him, feeling your face heat up a little. “Okay! Tomorrow it is!”

 

“Okay…” Muriel said awkwardly, turning his head slightly and picking at a splinter on the edge of the door, “... goodbye…”

 

You leaned against the doorframe and smiled up at him. He hesitated again, and looked at you. You were sure you looked foolish, smiling eagerly up at him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were happy. 

 

Ironically, the man who wanted nothing more than to be alone made you feel much less lonely.

 

“See you tomorrow,” He mumbled, pulling his hood on and pressing something into your hand before turning around and leaving quickly. 

 

You watched him go, and then looked down at the soft cloth pouch in your hand. It was sewn from a heavy burlap, and smelled strongly of pepper and sage.

 

A protective charm. You grinned, and tucked it into your pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs: 
> 
> Hummingbird, Alex Clare
> 
> It Will Come Back, Hozier (Literally... kind to wolf, kind to man. you know better)


	4. A Good Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Ostara Folks. Warning: If you uhhh aren’t 18+ don’t read the next chapter. this chapter is mostly safe for work. Next is not going to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boop I can’t stop writing this

The next day you traced you wards and smiled, drawing Uruz over the lock. You were going to visit him, after all. You walked out into the woods with your quiet footsteps, retracing your path to Inanna’s trap. As you went, you uprooted snares, but this time you held them in your hand, humming as you went. Eventually you came across the place where a brand new bear trap had been laid. You used the butt of a snare to trigger it, and once it was closed, you held out your hands and crushed it. 

 

Once that was done, you looked up, and, with a hand on the pouch of myrrh around your neck, you picked your way through the woods to his hut. when you arrived, you knocked on the wood, and it swung open quickly.

 

“You’re late…” Muriel said sharply, looking you over. You held out the bundle of snares.

 

“Brought you these. Fresh out the ground,” 

 

Muriel frowned. “If you’re out pulling snares you should come get me first. What if you got caught?”

 

“You sound like my Master,” You teased as he took the stakes from you and walked past him. He flushed at that, and set the stakes down 

 

“You could get hurt. Asra is right,”

 

You shot an exasperated over your shoulder and pulled out your rune box. “So are you going to practice with me, or am I going to have to play all by myself?”

 

Muriel shifted awkwardly, then pointed at the fireplace. “... Ah… I made dinner, if you’d like to eat first…”

 

You smiled, and nodded, walking into his pantry and wordlessly getting plates and his wooden cutlery. You turned it over in your hands, and looked around at him.

 

“Do you make everything you use?”

 

Muriel shrugged as he spooned the stew onto the plates. “Guess so,” He said, “You don’t have to talk to people if you never buy anything,”

 

“You talk to me,”

 

“Well… You’re…” Muriel blushed and made a face like a pout. You laughed and shook your head.

 

“What’s in the stew?” 

 

“Potatoes, onion, carrots, flour, celery-“

 

“It’s a vegetable stew?”

 

“... Yes,”

 

You smiled and rummaged in your bag. You pulled from it two bottles of mead. Muriel frowned at them, but you shook your head and handed it to him. “It’s Tennison’s, not the brewer from market,”

 

“Who is Tennison?” 

 

“Oh, of course you don’t know her. She’s a brewer from the eastern district. Just eighteen, but she knows what she’s doing. Her father taught her before he died,” you cracked open the bottle with your knife and took a hearty swig before you opened his as well. “To Marguerite Tennison, best brewer in Vesuvia,” You held the bottle up, and Muriel clicked the lip of his bottle against yours, so careful it hardly made a sound. He brought it to his lips, his eyes fixed on yours, and took a sip. He set the bottle down, and then sat across the table from you. You picked up the wooden fork and speared a potato on the end of it, bringing it to your mouth. It was spicy, which surprised you, but not overwhelming in any way. you could still taste the way the vegetables had combined into something that could likely never get boring to eat. You smiled at Muriel, nodding and covering your face with your hand. 

 

“It’s good!” You said once you’d swallowed your mouthful. Muriel let out a barely-audible sigh of relief, and started in on his own plate. You are in a comfortable silence, the click of wooden cutlery on wooden plates was set off by the occasional slide of a bottle being pushed back into place. Once your plates were cleared, muriel picked them up, and took them outside, pouring rain water over them, rinsing them clean. You stood in the doorway, wanting to help, but unsure how. Muriel seemed so… capable. You almost felt insolent when you offered assistance that was so obviously unneeded.

 

After he had washed the plates and forks, he came back in, and you grabbed up a clean cloth, taking the dishes from him and drying them, then the table, and then turning to him. The cloth was damp, but Muriel’s hands were dripping. You draped the cloth over the fire to dry, then turned back to Muriel, grabbing his wrists and pulling them toward you. You brought his hands to your stomach and wrapped the bottom of your shirt around them, drying his hands off carefully, the calloused drag obvious even through the fabric. When you let his hands go and your shirt fell back into place around you, you looked up at him and smiled. 

 

“There! All dry,”

 

Muriel swallowed. His cheeks were red, and he still held his hands awkwardly, like his mind hadn’t caught up with the moment. After a second, he met your eyes and licked his lips quickly. “... not your shirt,”

 

You tilted your head, brow furrowed, and Muriel seemed unable to really voice what he was thinking. He hesitantly reached forward, his fingers brushing the now cold, wet cloth of your shirt, then pulling it away from your skin. 

 

“... Your shirt is wet now, you… could get cold,”

 

You laughed, pulling his hand up away from your shirt and into yours. You ran your fingers over his palm and shot him a crooked grin.

 

“I’ll be fine,” You said, “It’ll dry quick enough,” 

 

Muriel grunted and pushed a chair in front of the fire, gesturing for you to sit in it. You did, making a show of rolling your eyes, but settling in and crossing your legs on the top-big-for-you seat. Muriel just huffed and pulled a blanket over your shoulders, looking very unhappily at the damp patch of your shirt.

 

You fixed your eyes on his face and tilted your head again, measuring his features, committing them to your limited memory. From further away, all you could smell on Muriel is myrrh, but close, like this, there was more to it. He smelled like home cooking, and paulo santo smoke, and a little like iron and cedar. Like work, hard work, with none of the cloying sweetness of the city, no flowery perfumes or anything at all unnecessary. Muriel smelled the way he did because that’s  _ what _ he did. Muriel smelled like life alone in the woods, and he smelled like myrrh.

 

You smiled. His eyes caught yours, and he shot backward, seeming to notice how close you were. He cleared his throat and looked away, his face turning crimson again. 

 

“You okay?” You asked, trying hard not to sound teasing.

 

Muriel ignored your question and squinted at the empty table. “Are you cold? Should I put more wood on the fire?”

 

You shook your head and smoothed your hand over your stomach. “I’m almost dry,” 

 

Muriel frowned and stomped out, before returning and putting another log on the fire. You shook your head. “Muriel, I’m fine,” You said, letting the blanket fall from your shoulders and catching his wrist, “Your hands were not that wet, and I’m not cold. Sit down, and we can pull runes,”

 

Muriel hesitated, then nodded. He walked to a shelf and pulled his runes down, then picked yours up from the table and handed them to you. He sat on his stool by the fire and reached into his bag.

 

“What are we drawing for?”

 

You hesitated, then hummed. “Will I ever just cave and buy that thread cutter necklace?”

 

Muriel made a confused face, but pulled a rune all the same. “Perthro... a non-answer,” He said, shrugging. “Guess it’s still up in the air,”

 

You shot him a sly grin and hummed. “Or maybe you still have something else on your mind,”

 

Muriel turned crimson and looked away, quickly dropping the chip back into his bag. You pulled your own runes from the box and hummed thoughtfully. 

 

“So… do you have any questions?”

 

He looked down into the fire and frowned. “Are you cold?”

 

You rolled your eyes and threw your hands up, accidentally upsetting your bag. A rune fell out and skidded to rest against the edge of Muriel’s boot. He bent and picked it up, turning it over to read it. It looked puny in his hands. He immediately got to his feet, even as you shovelled the runes back into your bag, and brought the blanket back over your shoulders. You looked up at him, frowning.

 

“I’m fine!”

 

He took your hand and pressed the rune into it gently. “Isaz. I have to warm you back up…”

 

You flushed and dropped the two runes in your other hand by accident, and glared down at them as though they had meant to jump from you. You flushed a little when you saw Uruz and Ingwaz staring back, and swept them up in your hand. You supposed  _ he _ wasn’t the only one with something else on his mind. You pushed the offending bones into the bag and cleared your throat, your eyes falling from his face and trailing down his bare chest, covered in straps, and then falling to where his belt sat. You started, looking around frantically and uncrossing your legs. You snapped your knees together and tugged on your collar nervously.

 

“Ah, yeah, d-don’t worry about it…”

 

But Muriel, for the first time since you’d very first met, did something without permission. He scooped you up in one arm and caught your runes in the other, setting them gently over the fireplace and then setting you gently in his bed. If your voice had been working, you would have let out an undignified squeak. 

 

“I don’t know your antler runes very well,” Muriel grumbled, wrapping his blanket tighter around you, “But That’s a very clear answer and I’m not ignoring it. I… wouldn’t be happy if you got sick,”

 

“I’ll die of heatstroke before I get a cold, Muriel,” You grumbled as he pulled a fur around your shoulders. He shook his head. 

 

“The water was cold…”

 

“The water is  _ evaporated, _ ” 

 

“No, it’s not,” He slid a hand under the blanket and touched the damp fabric. “You’re still wet,”

 

You flushed, but he didn’t seem to get it. You cleared your throat, looking away. “Would you stop fussing if I took it off and hung it up to dry?”

 

Muriel flushed, but nodded. “That’s… a good first step,” He straightened up and stomped toward the door. “just… shout when you’re under the blankets again,”

 

You gaped at him. “What are you doing?”

 

He turned, looking surprised. “You’re going to take off your shirt,”

 

“Muriel… why would you leave because of that?”

 

He paused, blinking, then jabbed a finger at the hook by the fireplace, as if to say ‘ _ You’ll be walking around in here shirtless…’ _

 

You rolled you eyes and sighed, peeling you shirt off and walking across the room. “You  _ never _ wear a shirt,” You looked over at him, with his eyes fixed firmly on the floor and his face so red you thought he might be bursting blood vessels. 

 

“... Cloak…”

 

You sighed again and pulled on the end of the bandage your chest was bound with, tucking it in more securely. “Really, Muriel, it’s fine. You’re  _ fine _ ,”

 

He peeked up, and when he did, his eyes went wide. You walked slowly back to his bed, climbing into it and kicking off your shoes. 

 

“If you want to get me warm, then come here. I don’t like you hovering around all broody,”

 

Muriel cleared his throat, and walked over, immediately pulling a blanket over you and then perching on the very edge of the bed. You rolled your eyes and leaned forward, pulling on his cape and urging him to come closer to you.

 

Maybe you were being desperate, and needy, and irresponsible, but… you wanted it. Him. Not just… sex. You just wanted him close to you. Muriel stiffened, watching you out of the corner of his eye and looking uncomfortable.

 

You stopped and sat back. “Sorry,” You said, looking away, “I’m… pushing, aren’t I?”

 

Muriel said nothing, and you pressed your forehead into your hands. 

 

“Sorry… I just… I’m so damn… lonely. My master is never around and the people at the market are kind but they all think I’m strange and… Sorry…”

 

“...lonely…” Muriel said, in his voice like rolling thunder, like titans shaking the earth. You swung your legs off the bed and touched your bare feet to the floor. It was high up, his lumpy, collapsing mattress, and your toes couldn’t reach the ground if you stayed fully seated. You sighed. 

 

“I… I apologise for making you uncomfortable-“

 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Muriel blurted out, his face crimson again. You turned toward him with wide eyes. 

 

“Hurt… me?”

 

He swallowed, and looked at his hands. “You’re… so little…”

 

You flushed, catching his meaning. “I’m not delicate!” You barked, straightening up. He closed his eyes. 

 

“I…” He cleared his throat again. “I don’t have a lot of… self control…”

 

You shook your head. “Neither do I, I mean…” You waved your hands around, indicating all of yourself. “I’m not exactly a super-disciplined mystic, here,”

 

“You’re…  _ little _ , though…” Muriel mumbled, tilting his head. You swallowed, then reached out, Your hands finding his cloak and easing it slowly off his shoulders. He flinched a little as you did it, as you ran your hands over scarred skin, every touch setting your senses on fire. You were so touch starved… so lonely… 

 

“Not that little,” You hissed, letting his cloak fall completely and shifting. You took a deep breath. “C-can I kiss you?”

 

Muriel’s eyes flew wide, and he turned to face you. You tentatively placed a hand on his jaw and waited, but he didn’t reply. It looked like he was a deer startled by lanterns. You leaned back, but he sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. You reached up, cupping his face gently, and then brought your lips to his. They were shockingly soft, and he was pliant, hesitant, he just let you do what you wanted. You deepened the kiss, tilting your head, pressing in more, and his lips parted for you. You licked along his bottom lip, and when you did, he jumped a little, but after you withdrew, he caught yours between his teeth and kneaded it gently. You let out a little moan, small and quick in your throat, but it set something off in him.

 

He seized you and pulled you into his lap, and his thighs were so broad that you couldn’t really kneel over them, you just sat on his legs as one hand held your knee and the other came to rest on your back. You gave an approving squeak, And opened your mouth to let him slide his tongue over yours. He kissed your breath away, all while giving off the feeling that he was trying desperately to restrain himself, that he was holding back. You hummed happily, and when he finally broke away for air, his lips shining and bruised, his breath coming quick, he looked a little ashamed.

 

That was… Until you threw your hands around his shoulders and nipped at his collarbone, squirming in his lap. You smiled up at him, pressing a quick kiss to his chin and then biting your lip. “You’re a real good kisser,” You breathed, pressing yourself against him. 

 

His hands found your hips and stilled them, and when he caught your eyes, he looked both stern and pleading.

 

“Hold still,” He whispered. You frowned.

 

“Why?”

 

“I’m… having trouble. I…” He swallowed, looking at your face with a hungry expression you hadn’t seen him wear before.

 

“Having trouble holding back?” You asked sweetly, stroking his shoulders soothingly. His grip on your hips loosened ever so slightly. He blushed. You smiled and pressed in closer, rocking your hips against him and humming. “Then don’t. You can do what you want, Muriel,”

 

Muriel tensed up, every muscle going stiff against you, and he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, hands shaking. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, and he hummed, one thick  forearm coming up and pressing into your back, holding you to him, letting your bare skin press together. You realised he must be just as touch starved as you were.

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, lay back, lay down,” You said, urging him gently back. He laid back, breaths coming quickly, hands still on your hips, but you straightened up, unbuttoning your trousers and pulling them from you. You almost lost your balance, and started giggling, before leaning up over him and planting another kiss on his lips. 

 

“You can touch me if you would like,” you said, and he swallowed, running his hands over you and looking down. He grabbed your thighs, and kneaded them gently, and then pulled you further up, so that you were straddling his waist. He hissed uncomfortably, and behind you you felt him adjust himself in his trousers.

 

“Do you… want to stop?” You asked. He looked away, and shook his head, his face still flushed and his eyes shifty. You pressed your lips to his jaw and hummed, sliding your hands down his arms, making him shiver. Your fingertips caught on the shackles there, and you sat up, catching his forearm and drawing it up. 

 

“Can… can I take these off for you?” You whispered, trying to meet eyes that avoided you, a gaze that wouldn’t rest on you. Again, he risked no words, but after a few moments hesitation he nodded. One hand cast the spell that undid the lock, and the other lifted the shackle away. You hissed as you saw the bruised, raw skin, untouched by the sun that cast the pain of abrasion and weight into sharp relief. You turned quickly to the other, and did the same, revealing more damaged skin. You looked back up at him, to find his eyes on your face, his expression guilty and hurt. You brought your hands to the collar around his neck, and you paused again. He swallowed, looking torn, but then tilted his chin up to give you better access to the heavy metal. 

 

You fiddled with it for a moment before you found the lock, and opened it. You pulled it open, and you set it aside gently, your hands surprisingly steady considering how much stress was pressing against your lungs. 

 

You swallowed hard when you saw the way the sharp bottom edges of the collar had calloused and chafed his shoulders and chest, how bruised and raw his collarbones were, how pale and delicate the skin above where the weight of the binding sat. 

 

Muriel’s face was terrified now as you reached behind you and set the collar on the floor. You met his eyes again and brought your hands up to the bruises and calluses along his neck. 

  
  


“Can I heal you?” You asked. Muriel sighed. 

 

“I don’t deserve it,” He said, voice low and quiet, eyes falling from your face as he reached up and caught your hands. You pressed your weight against him, and he held you easily, seeming grounded by the pressure of you. 

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s my punishment. My weight to bear,”

 

You frowned, tilting your head. “What punishment? What did you do, that you deserve this?”

 

“If you knew… You wouldn’t…”

 

“I wouldn’t what?”

 

“You wouldn’t…  _ want _ me,”

 

You paused, then leaned down and pressed your lips against his. You kissed him, full and honest and desperate, and when you drew back, you met his eyes. “I will always want you. Always. It doesn’t matter what you did, because I forgive you. Even if you think I don’t, I do. I forgive you because whatever you did, I might have done something worse,”

 

“...What do you mean?”

 

You smiled bitterly. “I can’t remember anything. Nothing at all past Asra’s face, two years ago. No family, no childhood, no nothing. Just Asra. That’s it,”

 

Muriel looked at you blankly. 

 

“What has to go on in someone’s head to make a person forget  _ everything _ ? What did I do? What happened to me? I don’t even have scars. Not a single one I haven’t gotten in the last two years. It’s like someone locked me in a room my whole life and then suddenly there I was,” You shook your head. “I could have done something  _ awful. _ I could be something  _ awful _ . What do I know? Nothing. I don’t know anything at all. Or anyone… but… that’s another matter. It’s hard to try to get to know people when you don’t have memories. People do the ‘enough about me…’ but and you just… can’t reply. They eventually think you just… don’t wanna talk to them. Hard to say to strangers, ‘I literally have no memories or experiences’... you know?” You shot him another bitter little smile. “It doesn’t help I’m a little…” You trailed off and waved your hand, as though gesturing to your personality. Muriel’s lip twitched, and he didn’t frown.

 

“I think you’re…” And he waved his hand, much too fast, but you supposed that would tend to happen if you were used to always lugging heavy iron weights around. You laughed and caught his wrist, just above the bruise, and smiled at him. 

 

“Let me heal you. You can put them back on once…” You blushed, “ _ whenever _ you want… but I just… I want to heal you. Will you let me?”

 

Muriel frowned, his brow furrowed, and he glanced at the door. “After you healed Inanna you passed out,”

 

You shook your head. “Bruises and a couple raw patches aren’t going to do the same thing as an internally severed limb,” You said, brushing your hand closer to the bruises on his wrist and looking at him. “I don’t mean to pressure you,”

 

“No, It’s… fine,” He looked away, flushing. “If you really want to… I guess…” 

 

You smiled and brought both hands to encircle his wrist. You closed your eyes and cast the spell, his skin quickly mending and clearing. You brought your hands to the other, and did the same, and Muriel sat up, his newly healed arms encircling your waist as you brought your hands up to his chest, sliding your hands over his skin, smoothing away the bruises, the raw, inflamed calluses, the split skin. When your fingers brushed over his new skin, he tensed, his hands gripping you tight, his eyes fluttering shut. You brought your hands up, over his neck, and he jumped, leaning forward into your touch. You took your thumbs, you pushed at his jaw, and with a turn of your head you pressed a kiss to his throat, unguarded and uncovered, pale and soft. 

 

A small, quickly stifled moan rose from his throat, and next thing you knew, you were on your back, and he had kicked off his boots. He leaned over you, caging you in and staring into your eyes.

 

“Why aren’t you scared of me?”

 

“Because I like you so gods-damned much,”

 

“Why do you care about me at all?”

 

“Because. Your soul is good,”

 

Muriel didn’t reply, but his eyes looked for an answer. You smiled, and reached over, pulling his wrist away from the mattress, bringing it to your mouth and pressing your lips to his pulse. You rested your cheek against it and met his eyes again.

 

“I… I know that wolves can see souls. I know… in all of me. I know from before. From… always. But you? I don’t think I even need a wolf’s eyes to see yours, Muriel. You’re made from spun glass.  _ I see you. _ Your soul is good, and I know it,”

 

“...And yours?”

 

You smiled again, bitterly. “Who knows? I might not have one at all. I’m made from the present moment. Nothing else. Nothing to carry along the way,”

 

“A new soul,”

 

“Or a recycled one. An ignorant soul,”

 

Muriel pursed his lips. “I let you heal me,” He said, the hand that was connected to the wrist you had kissed that was connected to the heart that you knew moved down your side, to your hip, and a rough thumb traced the edge of your underwear. “Now… let me take care of you,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs: 
> 
> Like Real People Do, Hozier
> 
> Relax My Beloved, Alex Clare


	5. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmmmmm I accept zero responsibility for quality

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your throat tight. “Can’t I look after you?” You asked. Muriel shook his head. 

 

“You deserve this,” He said, pressing down closer to you. You swallowed, your legs falling apart of their own accord. “You should be taken care of. You…” he trailed off, but he looked at you as though you were something delicate, precious. You bit your lip and flushed.

 

“Ah… Alright, then. If… if you want to…”

 

Muriel ducked his head, sitting back on his haunches, running his rough hands over your skin. You could feel the gentle scratch of calluses against you, and you blushed. He felt you like you were a thing to be memorised, like you were something holy- You were laid almost bare across his bed and he is hands were setting you trembling, it was almost too much, to finally be touched, to finally feel someone else’s skin, you had no memories of anyone touching you like this, you think it must have happened, but…

 

Muriel dipped his head, and began to press his lips to your skin, his stubble scratching your skin, his lips soft, his hair falling down against you, hiding his face from view. You jolted, but reached down, tracing your fingers through his hair and pushing it back, holding it gently up behind his head. He kissed across your stomach and you trembled, your eyes fluttering and a riot raging under your skin as he kissed his way lower. 

 

He eventually reached the place where the waistband of your underwear sat and he paused. One of his hands reached down, feeling you through the fabric and glancing up at you.

 

“You… You’re wet through…” 

 

You laughed, covering your eyes and shifting your hips. “Well… you should take them off. I might catch a cold,”

 

Muriel actually smirked when you peeked at him, and it sent your body aching. He slipping your underwear down your legs and threw them aside, then he was back against you, drawing his thumb up along your slit and teasing your clit lightly. You whined, high in your throat, letting your head drop hard against the pillows and pushing your hips into his hand further. 

 

He swallowed thickly, and then his head was between your legs, and he was sliding his tongue along you, dipping it into you, your legs falling further apart as he wrapped his hands around your thighs and pulled you closer. He moaned, sucking hard on your clit and looked back up at you, making eye contact and looking… hungry. Heated. You moaned back, propping yourself up on one elbow, the other hand coming to catch his hair, pulling it away from his face, letting you see him better as he ate you out. 

 

Gods, you didn’t know how long it was. You were shaking, your thighs trembling in his grip, you were wound up so tight and every touch set you on fire and Muriel looked like he never wanted to stop. His jaw had to be hurting, you thought, even as he lifted your hips a little and sent you thudding backward into the mattress, letting his hair go and scrambling to grip something with your hands as he returned to your clit, licking it and sucking on it like all he wanted in the world was to hear you cum. And with an accidental press of teeth, he did. You came hard. Your muscles tensed and jerked, you let out a shout, and you felt you muscles flutter and grasp at thin air. “M-Muriel…” You whined, turning to press you face into the bed. there was a noise that came from deep in his chest, and he slid a finger into you. Just one, but it stretched you all the same, and you whined again, bucking a little in his grip, but he had you tight, and forced you still as he slid his finger in and out. He frowned.

 

“You’re too little. You won’t… It won’t fit…” 

 

“Mur-“

 

“You’re… too small…” he pressed a second finger to you entrance. “you can’t even take two fingers…”

 

“Please, I can take it, I can take it. Please,”

 

“It’ll hurt you…”

 

“I need it,” You whined, trying to push your hips down onto his fingers. He shifted his grip, one hand still holding you up, the blood rushing to your head as you hooked your calves over his shoulders, pushing yourself into him. He pressed his second finger in slowly, easily, stretching you gently. You sighed happily, arching, your shoulders pressing into the mattress. 

 

“Too much?” he asked, concerned, freezing.

 

“Not enough,” You breathed, tangling your fingers in your hair and giving him a pleading look. “Please, Muriel, can I have more?”

 

Muriel looked worried, but began to slide his thick fingers in and out of you, the sweet drag of his fingertips pulling you back up, urging you forward, and you where a whiny mess, tossing your head from side to side, crying out as he twisted his fingers and curled them. Muriel gasped a little, and let out a quiet groan.

 

“You’re… squeezing me,”

 

“Close…” You hissed, “Close again,”

 

Muriel’s eyes widened, and he crooked his fingers again. “A-already?”

 

“‘s good, s-so good…”

 

Muriel brushes his thumb against your clit, but it was just teasing, his gentleness only serving to edge you into a crying mess. You whined, and writhed, and tried to push yourself further onto his hand, but he just held you up and fucked you open slowly on his fingers. 

 

“Please, Muriel, more… I need more…”

 

“More what?” Muriel asked, lowering you slightly, leaning over you. His fingers rocked slowly, drawing you out, and you could hear how wet you were, probably ruining a fur beneath you. You let out a little sob and writhed, closing your eyes and gasping.

 

“More fingers, more you… so close,”

 

“That’s too much…” Muriel breathed, stilling his hand, “You’re going to get hurt,”

 

“No!” You started to struggle, and Muriel leaned forward a little more, your legs on his shoulders forcing you to fold, the blood rushing to your head making it hard to think. You sobbed again, reaching up and scrabbling against his chest for something to grip. “I need… So close… I want it all, please, I’m… I’m going to die of this, Muriel, please!”

 

A third thick, rough finger at you entrance, and you let out a sob of relief, closing your eyes and letting out a stream of swear words and thank-you’s- until he pushed it in. Then your eyes fluttered, and all you could do was go stiff and whine helplessly. You couldn’t see, could barely hear, and all you knew was three of Muriel’s thick, strong fingers were inside you and they felt right. He pumped then twice and you came  _ again,  _ your whole body shaking with it, your voice broken. Muriel hissed, sounding almost angry, not stopping his fingers slow drag until you came down, and even then, he kept curling and shifting them inside. You couldn’t say anything, but you let out a long, low whine.

 

“... You… I’ve never felt anything that… You came really hard…” Muriel grunted, dragging his fingers over your sensitive insides. You whined and nodded, letting out a pathetic, strangled little moan that could maybe have passed for a ‘Please’ if someone was feeling generous.

 

“Please, what?” He breathed, rocking his fingers in, and out, and in again. “What do you want?”

 

You groaned, arching your back, trying to wriggle free, but you couldn’t. Muriel had you trapped, so you had to ask nicely. 

 

“Please, please fuck me…” You whined, “I want  _ you _ …”

 

Muriel groaned. His body twitched. His hand stilled. He looked like he was trying hard not to cave. You blinked up at him, regaining some presence of mind. 

 

“Muriel…” You purred, trying to sound sexy. You didn’t have much… any… experience, but you thought you’d heard other people flirting with Asra. You reached up and brushed Muriel’s hair away from his face. “Muriel… don’t you  _ wanna _ be in me?” You breathed, and Muriel swallowed. His eyes darted around your face, and you smiled. “Don’t you wanna feel me? Can’t I have you? Please?”

 

Muriel set your hips on the bed, your legs sliding from his shoulders, down his arms, resting in the crooks of his elbows, and then he was pulling his fingers from you. You arched, and whined, and squeezed your eyes shut. You just knew he was looking at you, at how you were opened for him, wide and clenching against nothing, your body asking for more. 

 

“Muriel, please?” You slid your fingers across his scalp, and his arms fell to either side of your head, caving you in.

 

“I’ll… hurt you…”

 

“I will stop you if it hurts,”

 

“...”

 

You let his hair fall, and cupped his face. “Muriel, please. If you really don’t want me, that’s fine, but… I want you. I want you more than… anything on earth right now,”

 

Muriel started at that. “You think I… don’t want you?”

 

You bit your lip and looked away, but Muriel unhooked your legs from him. You sat up a little, legs trembling, but looked at him. Muriel was flushed. He cleared his throat. “I’m… big,”

 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, no, I couldn’t have guessed that,”

 

Muriel shook his head. He sighed, and began undoing his trousers, looking embarrassed and nervous and unhappy, like he had done this before and it hadn’t worked out well.

 

You sat up further, watching in awe as Muriel shed his trousers. You swallowed. You could… see him. Renting his underwear. it was brutal looking, you’d guess that there were adults with forearms smaller. Your mouth started to water.

 

Muriel looked unhappy as he pulled it free, and your jaw dropped.

 

“It’s not-“

 

“Put that in me,” You rasped, staring at him. It was pretty. You’d not seen many- sketches in books and descriptions from other people. But you knew, despite its size, Muriel’s dick was just… pretty. Perfect. And… well, it was huge. Predictably. 

 

You shifted closer, reaching forward, wrapping your hand gently around him and looking up to meet his eyes. He was shocked, blushing, looking at you like you were something fictional come to life, a fantasy made real. 

 

“I want you in me, Muriel. Can I have you?” You breathed, sliding over him teasingly, like he had teased you. “I want to take you,”

 

“I…”

 

You leaned in, and you kissed him, soft and slow. You pulled back. “Nauthiz,” you hissed under your breath, “Need-fire, Muriel, I’ll say Isaz if you hurt me. Okay? You’ll know that way, okay? But I  _ need _ you, I want you, I can’t see straight because all my brain is doing is screaming for you, please!”

 

Muriel paused, and you drew back, sighing. 

 

“If you don’t want to let me take it then can you let me get you off?”

 

Muriel hesitated again, but nodded, and you leaned in, pressing your lips to his cheek before taking hold of his dick again. He bit his lip, brow furrowing as you spread his precum over him and started pumping your hand slowly.

 

You shifted a little closer, and licked your lips. “Can I put my mouth on you?”

 

Muriel swallowed nervously, but nodded, and you ducked your head, you licked pu the length of him, then slid your mouth down over the head of his cock, sucking hard.

 

His thighs tensed, and his hands gripped the blanket, screwing it up and threatening the worn fabric. He made a rumbling, desperate sound, something like a wordless plea, and you felt his hips jerk toward you slightly. You struggled to keep your mouth wide enough to keep your teeth from him. You could tell your jaw would ache after a few minutes of this, and almost felt eager for it as you worked over him. Maybe he wouldn’t fill you where you wanted it most, but still, you could feel him, his pulse, you could taste him. You couldn’t swallow his all down, he was far too thick, far too long. You took what you could, and worked your hands over the rest, moaning happily as you watched his knuckles go white. His muscles tensed further and further, and every little grunt and hiss you drew from him made you whine back, humming around his cockhead. You, after a moment, paused and drew back, gasping for breath and pumping your hands over him. You looked up at him, squeezing your thighs together, feeling wetness drip down your legs. You whined again, squirming and blushing. You hadn’t realised how much you’d like blowing someone- or maybe it was just… Muriel.

 

Muriel, however, seemed to be having an even harder time handling what you were doing. His hands were still crushingly tight on the bed, and his eyes were smouldering. He looked hungry- no,  _ starving _ . He looked like he hadn’t eaten in days and was staring down a feast fit for a king.

 

He looked like there wasn’t an inch of his body he wasn’t fighting into submission. You blinked up at him, and then bent back down, kissing the head of his dick. You licked the slit again, keeping eye contact as you did, slow and deliberate. You let go with one hand, and as sneakily as you could, you pressed a finger to your clit as you sank your mouth back down over him. 

 

You slowly bobbed your head, and whined, twitching at the way you were brushing your own over sensitive nerves. Muriel, it seemed, noticed what you where doing and cupped your cheek, lifting you away from him and hissing. 

 

“Are you… touching yourself?”

 

You gasped, looking him in the eye and leaning back a little more, showing him your fingers, still moving. “Mhm… I like it…” You muttered, guessing that you looked a little dazed. Muriel groaned, and pressed you back. He pulled your hand away from yourself, and pressed two fingers back into you quickly. 

 

“Oh, gods forgive me… Gods… I can’t…” He breathed, making you whine long and loud as he stretched you all over again, “I’m sorry, I can’t…”

 

You positioned himself over you and pressed his face into the crook of your neck, and he pressed his lips against your pulse as he eased into you. You gasped, feeling the burn and ache of him entering you. 

 

He was big, so big, and he caged you in with his arms, and his body, all softness and sweetness and so painfully gentle, easing in so slowly, but he was still so much- and you struggled for breath as he pressed in, and he just kept coming, kept sliding in, there was always more. Your vision fogged, and you whined, strangled and needy, gasping for air and shaking. Muriel paused, And you sobbed.

 

“No, no, please don’t stop, please,” You cried, grabbing his arms, trying to push yourself further onto him. Muriel reached down with one hand and pinned your hips hard against the bed. 

 

“You’re going to hurt yourself. Y-you have to… to stop…” he was shaking with the effort it seemed to be taking to stop himself from slamming himself into you. You whined again, slapping the bed in frustration and gripping his other arm tightly. 

 

“Muriel! Bury your fucking cock in me! Please! I can’t. I need it, I need it, I’m going to die. Stop teasing! Fuck me, please fuck me, fuck me till I can’t move, please, please!” You tried to fight against his grip, trying to press down onto him, but he wouldn’t let you move, even more, he pinned you flat with his other hand on your sternum, pressing you down as he started moving again. He sunk in, drawing it out, torturously slow, until he was sheathed completely. He was gaping down at you, and you where breathless and whining. 

 

“Oh, no, I’m… s-sorry,”

 

You whined, shifting your hips and wiggling your thighs, trying to move on him, but he held you still, forcing you to adjust, looking like it was costing him years off his life.

 

You whined, “Muriel please, move, fuck me, I’m not going to break,”

 

“It’s too big for you… you’re so… tight…” He said, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. You sobbed again, trying to free yourself, to do anything, but he held you.

Eventually, you did the only thing you could think of. You squeezed down on him and whined. 

 

He seemed to snap. He grabbed your waist and began to fuck into you, and you arched as he stretched every inch of you. Tears stung your eyes as you gasped for air. You let out a high pitched moan, hardly less than a scream, and dug your fingers into his forearms as he pounded you. Your eyes rolled back, and you struggled to catch your breath. Muriel leaned down, resting his forehead on your chest and moaning quietly as he snapped his hips against yours. You could feel the rumble from his chest move through you. You could feel his strength as he held you still.

 

“I… can see it…” He muttered, moving his head, pressing his lips to your collarbone and grunting before leaning up and pressing a hand over your lower stomach. You cried out at the added pressure, grasping at his shoulders and bringing yourself up a little, looking to see what he was talking about. 

 

You gasped as he rammed back into you and you saw your stomach jump with it. He was so big that you could see him through you. You collapsed back and sobbed again, screwing your face up as he made your whole body rock with the force of his hips against yours. He leaned down and began kissing your face, frantically, one peck after another across your cheeks and forehead, muttering quietly as he did it. 

 

“Sorry, I’m sorry… you’re so…. tight… and… you sound so good…” He hissed as he struck your g-spot and spasmed around him, arching half heartedly off the bed. You were sweating and breathless and you couldn’t really see anymore because your brain must have decided that feeling every pulse and twitch of the massive cock inside of you was more important than your vision, and you honestly agreed. 

 

“Not… sorry,” You managed, before your voice devolved into a high pitched whine. 

 

His hips stuttered, and Muriel dipped his head and pressed his brow to yours. 

 

“Close…”

 

“It’s okay, I…” You gasped, “Come inside…”

 

Muriel groaned and sat up, grabbing your thighs and hoisting your hips of the bed a little to offer him a better angle. You yelped, and the new position meant he was rubbing against your clit as he moved. You hissed and gasped and came again, your over-stretched muscles working desperately around his dick. He gasped, and buried himself into you, yanking your thighs to pull you flush against him as he ground into you and came hard inside of you. You whimpered, tangling your fingers in your hair and falling limp as he shuddered. You could feel the pulse of his cock against every inch of you, stretched as far as you could without breaking, being coated with his cum.

 

After a while, he slid out, and you gasped and shuddered with the empty feeling that replaced him. Muriel sat back, running a hand through his hair and looking incredibly guilty.

 

After a second, he spoke.

 

“I… I’m so sorry…” 

 

You blinked up at him curiously. “Why are you sorry?”

 

“That… that probably hurt…”

 

You laughed, propping yourself up on your shaky arms and smiling up at him. “You prepared me for so long I could have taken a ninety year old oak tree. You didn’t hurt me. You made me cum so hard I went blind, but you didn’t hurt me at all,”

 

“... you can... go blind…”

 

“With a dick like yours? I could probably go deaf too. Let’s nap for a second before I go into town and buy a contraceptive, shall we?” You yawned and patted the bed next to you. Muriel glanced down between your legs and swallowed when he saw his cum slowly leaking out of you. You shifted and hummed, reaching out for him. He glanced up at you and settled at your side, pulling you up against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. you hummed, and he slid one of his hands between your thighs, blushing as he did it. You turned and looked up at him.

 

“Are you… holding it in me?” You asked, a teasing edge to his voice. He blushed and looked away, but pressed his hand protectively against you. You laughed. 

 

“Well, well…” You yawned and smiled, wiggling further into his grip, “I could get used to this,”

 

There was a moment’s pause, and you felt Muriel kiss the back of your head before he muttered into your hair.

  
“I could get  _ addicted _ to this…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs:
> 
> Power Over Me, Dermont Kennedy
> 
> Wolf Like Me, Lyra Lynn


	6. Hard Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make a mistake. No one actually talks about how they’re feeling. Take a fuckin sip, babes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmm did you think you’d get out of one of my fics without angst and an OC or two? HA.

You awoke with a start, unsure of what time it was. You felt the dampness between your legs and gasped, scrambling to your feet and pulling on clothes as quickly as possible. You pulled your shirt and and grabbed your bag, running out of Muriel’s hut and back to your shop. It was too late to buy a contraceptive at the apothecary, but you knew a simple recipe for one. You scrambled through your wards and into your shop, grabbing what you needed and rushing into the kitchen. A few minutes and a muttered spell later and you were gulping down a scalding potion.

 

Once you’d finished, you cleaned up, and ran a bath, scrubbing yourself clean and feeling a guilty about bailing on Muriel in your panic. You hadn’t even left a note. You considered going back right then, but… you couldn’t seewell enough in the dark to be sure you’d spot a trap before you stepped on it. It wasn’t safe, even you could admit that. You changed into pyjamas and resolved to call on him in the morning. 

 

You dreamt of running.

 

Running and going nowhere.

 

Feeling… trapped.

 

You awoke with a start and a pounding heart in your chest, and covered in a cold sweat. You had to bathe again, and then stole out of the shop, hoisting no flag above it. 

 

You warded your door and snuck through the woods, frowning at the grey sky. It looked like it might rain. You pulled a few snares, but only the ones already present in your path. 

 

You found the hut and knocked on the door, feeling a nervous energy in your chest. The door finally creaked open, and Muriel stood in it, looking unhappy.

 

You held out the snares, and he took them. “You were gone when I got up to feed the chickens,”

 

“I had to go make the contraceptive,” You said. Muriel scowled.

 

“I was worried. I told you not to pull snares unless I was with you. It’s not safe,” 

 

“Sorry. Sorry for ghosting and sorry for not listening. Can I come in?”

 

Muriel frowned again, and stepped aside. You shuffled into his hut and perched on a chair, pulling out your deck and shuffling it nervously. Muriel shut the door firmly and returned to sit by the fire wit his back turned to you, little curls of wood shavings falling to his feet as he worked on something you couldn’t see.

 

You began pulling cards, asking stupid little questions and getting unpleasant, snarky replies from the cards in your hands. Time stretched, and Muriel made no effort at conversation. Eventually you caved and asked the cards the questions you really wanted to know the answers to.

 

_ Did I hurt Muriel’s feelings? _

 

Three of swords.  _ Fuck. _

 

_ Should I apologise again? _

 

Knight of Cups, reversed. You frowned. 

 

_ Should… Should I leave him alone? _

 

Two of swords. You sighed, sliding your deck back into its worn bag and watching his back. You cleared your throat, but he didn’t turn or acknowledge you. 

 

You stood and trod carefully over to the fireplace, taking your rune box from where it had been put and tucking it into your bag, along with your deck. You turned to Muriel, trying to ignore the way he slid his hand over what he was working on in order to hide it.

 

“Ah… I guess you probably wanna be alone. It can be uh…” You knocked your fist nervously against your thigh and looked toward the door. “Overwhelming, having someone in your space if you aren’t used to it. You know where to find me… you know… if… if you want a cup of tea or anything…  _ anything at all… _ just ask. Don’t be afraid. I uh… I’d be glad to see you,” You felt your face burn, and turned toward the door. Muriel didn’t say anything. You could tell that he was angry.

 

You shut the door behind you and ran through the woods, stopping to cut a snare and swearing under your breath. You stumbled back into your shop and bit your lip, trying to ignore how tight your chest felt. Your deck was right. It was unkind to force yourself and your presence on him if he wanted to be alone, but it hurt to think that you’d messed things up by being so thoughtless. You were lonely, and sore, and it was barely midday before you decided to go down to the seedier part of town and find a bar where no one knew your face or that you were strange and memory-less.

 

You stole away to a pub and sat at the bar, nursing pints of mead one after another as the place grew busier and busier. Eventually, a tall, slender man leaned against the bar at your side.

 

“What’s a person like you doing in a place like this?” He cooed, his strong southern vesuvian accent making you wonder if he’d ever set foot outside of his neighbourhood before. You wrinkled your nose.

 

“Drinking,” You snapped, raising your stein and shaking the contents. You were nearly ready for a top up. “That should be obvious,”

 

The man laughed. He had dark green hair, and black eyes that he narrowed at you when smiled a crooked smile.

 

“You going home to something tonight, small fry?”

 

“My home,” You said shortly, “Alone,” You added, draining your mug. You looked around and pointed at a person surrounded by admirers, singing a sea shanty and batting their eyelashes. “Better odds are that way, bud,”

 

The man turned and sat beside you, tapping the counter and asking politely for a pair of drinks, one for each of you. You frowned, setting your stein down and glaring at the man. You leaned across the bar and cleared your throat.

 

“Separate. They’re  _ separate _ ,” You barked. The man laughed.

 

“You can’t let me buy you a drink?”

 

“You’re not my type,”

 

“I don’t have to be your type to pay for a drink, do I?”

 

You scowled, and began drinking deeply the second your stein was returned to you. The stranger thanked the barman when he was given his own mug, but he simply turned back to you with an interested smile.

 

“You aren’t normally around here, are you?”

 

“No,” You said, not bothering to elaborate as you poured more alcohol into yourself. You set your stein back down and wiped your mouth. “Can I have something stronger, please?”

 

The barman swept your stein away, and filled it to the brim with something gross and very alcoholic, which you chugged. The green haired man cocked an eyebrow.

 

“I’m Gylbart,” he ventured, when it became apparent that you were going to empty your stein.

 

“My condolences,” You replies shortly. Gylbart grinned.

 

“You’re drinking to forget, aren’t you?”

 

“Well I’m not doing it for my health,” You snapped as the stein was filled again. Gylbart tilted his head, but you shot him a dirty look. “There isn’t enough liquor in this bar to get me in your bed, Gylliander, so go find another little thing to bother,”

 

Gylbart hummed happily, and stood, draining his mug and grinning. “Do you sing?”

 

You didn’t sing. Not a note. But you knew a spell to change your voice and made a decision as people began to turn to you.

 

“If I sing you pick up my tab and I walk outta here alone,” You said cooly. The man smiled.

 

“I’ll take that,” He said. You turned in your stool, fixed your eyes on the pretty singer across the room, and tapped your throat quickly to cast the spell. 

 

“ _ I thought I heard the Old Man say: _ __  
_ "Leave her, Johnny, leave her." _ __  
_ Tomorrow you will get your pay _ __  
_ And it's time for us to leave her _ __  
__  
_ Leave her, Johnny, leave her! _ __  
_ Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! _ __  
_ For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow _ __  
_ And it's time for us to leave her _ __  
__  
_ Oh, the wind was foul and the sea ran high _ __  
_ "Leave her, Johnny, leave her!" _ __  
_ She shipped it green and none went by _ __  
_ And it's time for us to leave her _ __  
__  
_ Leave her, Johnny, leave her! _ __  
_ Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! _ __  
_ For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow _ __  
_ And it's time for us to leave her _ __  
__  
_ I hate to sail on this rotten tub _ __  
_ "Leave her, Johnny, leave her!" _ __  
_ No grog allowed and rotten grub _ _  
_ __ And it's time for us to leave her”

 

You turned and finished your mug, shooting a look at Gylbart, and then walking out from the pub. When the cool air hit you, you swore. You were far too drunk. You could hardly stand. You staggered, bracing yourself on the wall before walking down the riverbank.

 

“Did you sail then?” A voice called. You turned, setting the world spinning, and looked over at the pretty singer, standing at the door.

 

You frowned. “I don’t know,” You slurred, shrugging. “I coulda. How am I supposed to know?”

 

The pretty singer laughed. “You don’t remember?”

 

You shook your head and leaned hard against the wall. The singer walked toward you, tilting their head. They had light hair, damn close to grey, and hooded, golden eyes. Something about them seemed… wolffish. predatory, maybe. All sharp features and cunning. Silver chains tangled around their neck, and rings weighed their hands down. You ran your eyes over their frame. They were wearing more metal than clothes. You looked back up to their pretty face.

 

“suppose that’s not surprising. I was watching you. You sure do put them away, eh?”

 

You wrinkled your nose. “Can I help you with something?”

 

The singer smiled. “Maybe,” But they didn’t say anything else. You frowned. 

 

“What?”

 

The singer inched closer. “You look like you don’t want to be alone anymore than I do, and… well… neither of us have to be,”

 

You stood. “I’m not trying to get off, and I don’t want to pay for it either. Nothin’ against it, just not my thing,”

 

The stranger laughed, the sharp sound making you stop. “I’m not a prostitute! I’m a singer. And although I’m not objecting to the idea of tumbling into bed with you, you look like you couldn’t do much at the moment,”

 

“Yeah? Then what exactly are you offering?”

 

“Company,” The singer shrugged. “Just company. No euphemism, no tricks,”

 

You frowned again, and shook your head. “Thanks, but that’s a no,”

 

“My name’s Cailin,”

 

“I didn’t ask, but okay,” You scowled. What was with people and the introductions? Wasn’t it obvious you weren’t in the mood. 

 

“What’s yours?”

 

“Don’t have one,” You lied, tripping over your own feet and knocking an empty wine barrel over on you way down. You groaned, feeling the damp, cold stones against your fevered skin. Cailin laughed and trotted to your side, setting it back upright and guiding you to your feet again.

 

“You need help getting home, nameless wonder,” They said, tilting their head and offering their arm. You rolled your eyes, but took it, figuring there was no way you’d make it back without falling into the river, and… well… they said that the water was safe now, but who would want to risk it? 

 

Cailin steered you home, telling you funny stories about working as a singer, and occasionally trying to trick you into telling them your name. It seemed as though their conversation hardly needed you at all. They just liked to make noise. They were a terrible chaperone too, balancing up on top of railings, holding your hand as they did, as though you could support them- or they could support you. They were surefooted, however, and their grin showed of sharp canines. You got to the edge of your gate, and Cailin paused. They looked sad, like they didn’t want to say goodbye, but you just let go of their hand and cleared your throat.

 

“Thank you for your help,”

 

“It wasn’t a problem,” 

 

“I expect to never see you again,” You said, matter of factly. 

 

“Expect what you like,” Cailin replied, tilting their head again and smiling. “Life’s a long time, and I’ve been looking for a good fortune teller,” They pushes their hands into their pockets, causing the slits up the sides of their harem pants to flare open wider, showing off their long, tan legs. You averted your eyes. 

 

“I’m not a fortune teller,” You said.

 

“You door says ‘Tarot Readings Here’,” Cailin pointed out. You frowned.

 

“I’m a card slinger. That’s not fortune telling. The cards do the work and I just say out loud what they tell me,”

 

“Well maybe I wanna hear what they’ve got to say,” Cailin shrugged. You wrinkled your nose.

 

“I doubt it, they’re not very nice,” you said. a card started singing in your pocket, and Cailin smiled again as they leapt up onto the nearest railing.

 

“Neither are you. See you around, Nameless,” They threw their head back as they walked along, leaping from wall to railing and starting to sing. “ _ Leave her, Johnny, leave her! _ __  
_ Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! _ __  
_ For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow _ __  
_ And it's time for us to leave her _ __  
__  
_ We swear by rote for want of more _ __  
_ "Leave her, Johnny, leave her!" _ __  
_ But now we're through so we'll go on shore _ __  
_ And it's time for us to leave her _ __  
__  
_ Leave her, Johnny, leave her! _ __  
_ Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! _ _  
_ __ For the voyage is long and the winds-“

 

And then they were out of earshot, and you were staring out into the night for no good reason. The card was still singing in your pocket, so you reached down and grabbed it, pulling it free of its bag and glaring at it.  _ Page of swords. _ You unlocked the door, and stumbled inside, peeling off your clothes as you made your way to your bed. 

 

You passed out as soon as your face hit the pillow, the sachet of myrrh pressed to your lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get to the songs!!:
> 
> The Prowl, Dan Auerbach 
> 
> You Rascal You, Hanni El Katib
> 
> Should I Stay Or Should I Go, KT Tunstall


	7. Talking About Things- A Conversation Between A Brick Wall And A Rubber Mallet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Muriel doesn’t really understand social etiquette. Neither do you, because you’re basically two years old, but you know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope mountain man doesn’t come off as creepy here. To quote one of the wisest dead women I know about: “Do [him] justice, and pity [him],”

When you awoke, you heard someone shifting things downstairs. You sat up, your mind flying to Asra, but the bed beside you was empty, and cold. Asra would have jumped in between your sheets first thing.

 

You leapt up and padded downstairs, grabbing up a plywood board that had once held a bolt of velvet and holding it like a weapon as you made your way to the kitchen, where the noises were coming from.

 

You came around the corner, knocking your plywood against a corner and snapping it. It smacked to the ground loudly, and you flinched. 

 

Muriel appeared in the doorway, Inanna at his heels. He scowled at you, and you tried to hide the board behind your back.

 

“You fell asleep with the door wide open,”

 

You blushed. “It was closed! Just… not warded…”

 

“You shouldn’t do that. It’s dangerous,” He snapped, turning back around and stomping into the kitchen. You frowned.

 

“Good to see you too,” you grumbled, tossing what was left of your pathetic defence aside and shuffling into the kitchen. Muriel was pouring water into the kettle to make tea, and Inanna was chewing happily on a stick in the corner. You leaned against the doorway and frowned up at Muriel.

 

He made no effort to speak, but now he was in your home. He was the guest. You knew you didn’t have to leave. In fact, if he didn’t want to be near you, then why would he have come?

 

“I already apologised, and I know I should have at least left a note, but I don’t think I've earned this, Muriel. Why are you cold shouldering me?”

 

Muriel turned and glared at you. It had no venom. No bite. It looked more like a performance than anything, but still… You couldn’t help but feel hurt that he was trying to scare you away from asking him about his feelings. 

 

You shifted further from the doorway and gestured at it lamely. “If you really, genuinely don’t want to be here, nothing is keeping you. I want you here, I really do, but… I don’t want you against your will. If you don’t want me, then fine. But don’t… don’t torture me like this,” You swallowed, turning your head sharply and looking away from him, “Please,”

 

There was a long pause, and then he finally spoke.

 

“I was scared that you got hurt. That you left for no reason. That you… left for a reason…” He cleared his throat and turned back to the kettle, shifting it arbitrarily on the stovetop. “Then you came back and I was relieved, but I still felt… hurt. That you’d left. If you’d just woken me up… I had the things at the hut for the potion, I think. I don’t know the exact ingredients, but… I would have come with you. And I just wanted to be alone, to work through it, and you went, and I felt better,” He seemed overwhelmed. You weren’t sure when the last time he’d actually… talked… had been. You stride forward, pulling him from the stove and leading him to a chair. He dropped into it with a heavy sigh and rested his head in his hands. “But then… I felt guilty that I felt better when you were gone, so once… I’d figured things out… I… I came to find you. But the flag wasn’t up. And you weren’t home…”

 

You stiffened. You mechanically began pouring tea into mugs, spilling boiling liquid over your hand and flinching a little, but you only held the burn to your loose pyjama shirt, and finished pouring, before quickly setting the mugs on the table and moving to sit down. Muriel caught your wrist as you shifted by him, and guided you to stand in front of him, even as he stared down into his other hand.

 

“And then…” He clenched his hand into a loose fist, and you swallowed. “I looked for you. For a long time. In the market, and by the docks. I searched the city. Then… I saw you falling down in the alley, upending barrels and laying on the ground. You were drunk. That… Person…” There was a pause. Cailin had been flirty, you knew, and you knew they had held your hand. You waited. “That person did what  _ I’m _ supposed to do. They picked you up. They kept you safe. They did better than me, too… Because… They didn’t… They kept their hands to themselves…”

 

You reached out with your unburned free hand and cupped Muriel’s cheek, tilting his head up to face you. “Muriel, you’re forgetting two things. I don’t need constant protection. And I don’t  _ want _ you to keep your hands to yourself. In fact, I have very frequently explicitly requested the exact opposite of you keeping your hands to yourself,”

 

Muriel made a face that was almost a pout, and you smiled at him, bending to press a kiss to his forehead.

 

“I really am sorry that I scared you. And I’m sorry that I scared you again by not being home, but really, you need to worry less. I can take care of myself,”

 

“That other person took care of you last night,” Muriel grumbled, moving his hands around your waist and balling a fist up in the back of your shirt. He pressed his face low into your stomach and sighed again. “I should have stepped in. I was waiting for them to leave, and then you took their arm and you were walking with them and they were making you laugh so much…”

 

“I’m a giggly drunk,” You said️, stroking his hair back. He shook his head.

 

“I should have stepped up and taken you home,”

 

“If i’m being honest I would have liked to see you at any point during that walk, or before it, or after it. Why didn’t you… why didn’t you come in? Did you go home and come back?”

 

Muriel flushed, and sat up straight. You blinked in surprise.

 

“... I slept in the front. Inanna was there too. You didn’t… you didn’t ward your door. I didn’t want to wake you up, because it was late and you were drunk. But you… it’s not safe,”

 

You blinked, and he looked away from you, face bright red.

 

“Sorry. That’s… inappropriate,”

 

“What’s inappropriate is that you thought you shouldn’t wake me up and come inside. What made you come in in the end?”

 

“Thought you might need something to drink… you know… watery…” he mumbled, blushing even darker somehow. You smiled.

 

“Thoughtful,”

 

His hand slipped down and made to hold yours, but you flinched as he brushed against the burns on the back of your hand. He bristled and brought your hand up to look at it, where it was red and you had blistered. You made to draw your hand back, but he was already getting to his feet, looking around for something to put on it.

 

“Did you just… You should have-“ 

 

You held your hand over your other and brushed the wound away calmly, feeling a little woozy afterward, but standing steady.

 

“Muriel, it’s fine. Sit down,”

 

“You need food and water,” He grumbled, pressing you down into the chair he had just left and rummaging through your cupboards. You sighed, resigned to his broody fussing and picking up your mug of tea. You were a little glad of it. You felt awful from the night before and now having used magic on low energy was only making things worse.

 

You are the scrambled eggs and herbs that were placed in front of you, and Muriel refilled your tea when you emptied it. 

 

“Are you okay?” He finally asked, drinking from his mug. You noticed the way he used his pinky against the table to silence it as he set it down, and smiled.

 

“I’m great. Are you okay?”

 

Muriel’s eyes snapped to yours as he took your plate and set it in the sink. He swallowed. “‘M fine,”

 

“Come here,” You said, holding your arms out. Muriel did, kneeling down in front of you, letting you pull his head down into you chest as you stroked his hair back with your hands. You glanced down at your healed burn. You wished that you could have kept it. If it hadn’t been for Muriel’s worry, you may have. Your strange, empty body didn’t have many scars.

 

Muriel presses his head into you, his massive arms encircling you. He made a noise in his throat, and pulled you off the chair entirely and into his lap. You both say that way, curled up on the kitchen floor, your head resting on his chest. 

 

Eventually he tightened his grip, pressing you into him, and you looked up at his face. “I don’t like…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t like that… That they held your hand. I know it’s… but still. I want to be that. The person who helps you get home safe. The hand that you hold when you’re walking home at night…”

 

You laughed, and he looked surprised and a little hurt, but you shook your head. “Muriel, you are,” You leaned into him, “Yours will always be the first hand I reach for, but you weren’t there, and other people  _ can _ help me,”

 

“What if that person decided to hurt you?” He asked sharply. You sighed.

 

“You need to trust my judgement,”

 

“You were very drunk,”

 

You paused. “I’ll keep my head on straight in the future,”

 

Muriel grunted in a dissatisfied way and pressed his face into your hair. You sighed.

 

“I’m an independent person. I’m going to want to do my own thing. Take risks. If you want, you can be there to catch me. But don’t be upset that I live my life the way I want to,”

 

Muriel presses his face further into your hair and huffed. He hesitated. “As long as… as long as you’re mine. And I know you’re mine. And you know you’re mine,”

 

You looked up at him, eyes bright, a smile taking over your features. “You want me to be yours?”

 

He blinked slowly, brow knitting together. “... obviously,” 

 

You grinned and leaned up, catching his lips in a kiss. He hesitated at first, taken by surprise, but after a heartbeat you were flat on your back on the kitchen floor, and he was kissing your breath away like only he could, jealousy forgotten. Or maybe not forgotten, because he was sure in the way he held you now, and his kiss was faster, more desperate. Claiming. As he made his way down your jaw and to your neck, you let out a happy little trill, and he pulled away for a moment, catching your eye.

 

“Can I…” He began, face flushing. You smiled and nodded.

 

“Mark me up, wolf boy,” You laughed, and his face turned crimson before he pressed his lips back to your neck with a heightened enthusiasm.

 

His teeth pressed into your skin and you whined, every panting breath you took, every noise you made caused his grip to tighten, his bare chest to press harder against you, his kiss on your pulse to grow more desperate. You hooked your legs over his thighs and let yourself get caught up in it, in his need, his desire to hold you, to have you, to be yours. 

 

The oversized shirt you wore found its way around your waist, and despite the fact that you were still just as clothed at Muriel, what with a long sleeved, baggy shirt and a pair of underwear, while he was in a leather harness and trousers, but you felt exposed, laid bare on the kitchen floor beneath him.

 

You were flushing, wondering what it would be like to take him right then and there, when there was a slow clock of nails on the floor and a sudden smothering mass of fur between you. Muriel grunted unhappily and you wiggled away a little, gasping for breath and laughing loudly as you struggled for a comfortable position beneath Inanna’s crushing weight. She’d brought her bone over to lay on top of you. Muriel sat up, squinting unhappily at her as you buried your hands in her fur and ruffled it affectionately.

 

“Bringing a new meaning to the word ‘Dogpile’, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Muriel huffed, running his hand through his hair. “She’s telling me to get a room,” He grumbled. “Well you could always leave too, Inanna. You don’t have to  _ watch,”  _ there was a pause, and he flushed. “I know there’s not a door! That’s… you can’t even open a door, let alone shut it. Do you want me to let you out?”

 

Muriel crossed his arms sulkily as Inanna tilted her head and fixed him with a sharp look. You grinned. It was a little sad you couldn’t hear her, you wondered what her voice would sound like. Faust was a gentle hiss, whispers quickly devolving into laughter. 

 

“Well I can’t ‘get a room’ until you get up,” he growled, pushing his large hand between Inanna and you, urging her up, “get off of them,”

 

Inanna shot him a dirty look, then licked your cheek affectionately before getting up and plodding away with her bone. Muriel turned back to you and sighed.

 

You gave him a sly smile. “If the mood isn’t too ruined… we could take this to the bedroom,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:
> 
> No Good, Kaleo (Okay this is just cause the fuckin guitar is so sexy)
> 
> Howlin’ For You, The Black Keys
> 
> Tighten Up, The Black Keys


	8. A Plateau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smjt without substance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short and tbh my smut is so cyclical I feel like this brings nothing new to the table. ‘pologies, beloveds.

There is something to be laughed at, at the prim, the proper, who shyly call sex ‘Getting intimate’. ‘Intimacy’ in place of sexuality, sex acts, getting off, fucking. You hadn’t thought about it before, because why would you? It didn’t matter what people called sex when you weren’t having it, but now, having had Muriel hold you above the bed and kiss an orgasm from you, having had him grip your hips and bruise them, having had his hands encircle your waist…

 

Now, there was intimacy in all this, to be sure. There was intimacy now too, as he pulled you to your feet and you pulled him to your bedroom, giggling and apologising for the drunken mess you hadn’t yet had a chance to clean and pushing him down into the bed, that creaked desperately beneath his weight. 

 

There was intimacy in climbing into his lap and the way his hands wrapped around your waist. There was intimacy in the way that he kissed you, deep and slow like he could take the time. There was even intimacy in his impatience as he accidentally tore your shirt trying to get it off and your fevered scramble to remove his trousers. There was intimacy to be had in sex, to be sure.

 

But sex was not the end of it. The things about it that you considered truly intimate, the way he pulled away and gasped his low, little breaths, the way you’d already begun to memorise the way each callous as it dragged over your skin, the way his eyes locked with yours… All of that had nothing to do with sex. Nothing to do with fucking, with getting off. It was more than that.

 

It was everything. The word intimacy was attempting to encompass more than would fit in it. The word intimacy tried to hold in it the feeling you felt when you touched him and talked to him and saw him- it couldn't. It would break under the weight of the way you wanted to see his soul laid bare, the way you wanted to share your own. Like a wolf’s eyes could see. You wondered, when you looked at him and saw that hunger, that all encompassing want, if he felt the same. 

 

You thought he might, but then again, you may have been delirious and full of nonsense, because his fingers were inside of you rocking in and out slowly enough that you were sobbing for relief. 

 

“Mur…” You whined, arching off the bed and gripping the leather strap across his chest in an attempt to ground yourself, “Please… I can take it, I promise…” 

 

Muriel just shook his head and brushed your hair back with his free hand. “Gotta work you up to it…”

 

“I’m already worked up!” You gasped, your legs trembling as another orgasm threatened you. “Please, I need it,”

 

“Need what?” He asked, stopping and catching one shaking thigh in his hand, kneading it and pressing a kiss to the crook of your knee. You arched again, trying to pull him forward over you, as though you could force him to do anything at all.

 

You groaned and arched again, letting your eyelids flutter, groaning as you felt his fingers speed up. “I need your cock, Muriel,”

 

And he was back, biting your shoulder, both hands on your hips as he lined himself up and started to push his way in, slowly, sinking in, your breath forced out as he slid inside you, making you freeze, mouth open, eyes rolling back, you couldn’t tell if you were making noise or not, because your whole world was the slide of his cock filling you, stretching you open, and he was biting your shoulder. You moaned as he stilled, letting you adjust. Once you could think straight, you hissed.

 

“Muriel, roll us over,”

 

“Hm?” He grunted, not bothering to lift from the light bruise he was working into your skin. 

 

“Roll us over. I w-wanna be on top,” 

 

Muriel effortlessly swept you off the mattress and turned you, somehow managing to stay seated deep inside of you as he did, holding you tightly and starting to rock into you. You sat up, pressing your hands against his chest and grinding down onto him. His eyes shot wide, and he almost began to stutter as you started moving your hips, slowly working a rhythm up as you lost yourself in it. Muriel was watching you with a mixture or disbelief and awe on his face, as though he couldn’t believe his own eyes. 

 

It was when you looked down, gasping at the way this position let you see him moving through your stomach. You shifted, whining pathetically as you rode him, his hands found your hips and he began guiding your pace, sitting up, letting you loop your arms around his neck as you bounced in his lap. 

 

He pressed his lips to your forehead gently, as gently as he could, but his hands tightened on your hips and you could tell he would bruise you with his grip, you were glad of it, glad to have marks to remind you of this feeling, being stretched, filled, claimed. 

 

You felt the mood shift slightly. He put more power into his guiding hands. He let out a strangled half moan and you saw his jaw clench, his eyes slide closed, and he was sliding you up and down over him, more of your weight supported and moved by his arms than you, and you lost yourself to it, falling forward into his chest and letting out a gasp, shaking as the pressure mounted inside of you, building up again. 

 

His lips found the bruise on your neck again and he kissed it lightly before leaning you back. You whined, but his eyes slid over you again, taking you in, flushed and crying and filled by him. He groaned and sped up- or rather, sped you up, moved you’d faster over him, pushed up into you each time, and the beating your insides were taking sent you over again, and you bit your lip to stifle the sound you made as the orgasm ripped through you, trying hard not to let everyone out on the street know what was happening.

 

Muriel buried himself deep again and pulled you close, grinding hard into you as you rode it out, but your muscles trembling around him seemed to send him over too, and he hissed. You moaned as you felt him throb inside of you, almost soothing as you started to come down. After a moment, he laid back, still holding you over him, keeping himself inside of you. You fidgeted, but he hugged you to his chest, keeping you still.

 

“Muriel, what are you doing?” You meant it to be a laugh, but it wasn’t. It was a whiny, tired gasp. Muriel blushed, but stroked a calloused hand down your spine.

 

“Just feels nice,” He grunted lazily, shifting his hips against yours, “Being inside you. Can I stay? Just for a while?”

 

You hummed happily and closed your eyes, resting your cheek against him. “If you want to. In a few I’m going to get up and make a contraceptive though, and you’ll have to feed Inanna,”

 

“In a minute,” He said, resting his head against the pillows and closing his eyes too. You smiled, peering up at him. He looked peaceful. Happier than when you’d first met him somehow, there was something well fed about him now, not physically, but deeper. Like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The ease suited him, and made your heart sing in your chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:
> 
> Songbird, Haroula Rose
> 
> Too Afraid To Love You, The Black Keys
> 
> Boy Got It Bad (Live with the Charleston City Choir), Kail Baxley (This one is a religious experience)


	9. Oh....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mmmmmmmmm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey did you know I actually like... had a plot in mind?

He sat at the table, watching you when he thought you weren’t looking as you made the contraceptive potion. You made extra now, so that you could keep some bottles on hand. Muriel was running his hands over the rough table, frowning at it. Once you had a mug of potion and had set some tea in front of him, you passed the time by telling him about your regulars and what you got up to on a day to day basis. He seemed genuinely interested, and happy to just listen to you talk, even as you lost the thread of one thought in favour for a new one, and stuttered over something or other. 

 

Soon, however, the time came where you really needed to open the store- you’d been neglecting it too much over the last few days, and Muriel, when you mentioned this, muttered something about the chickens needing to be fed and excused himself. You walked him out, hoisting the flag over the shop and then turning back to Muriel. He seemed surprised at first when you caught his hand and pulled him gently toward your front door, but he came, and he stood still as you climbed up onto your front step. You hummed thoughtfully, still not quite where you needed to be, and held up one finger.

 

“Wait here for just a second,” You said, rushing back inside and bringing a chair out onto your step. You set it down with a determined clack and stepped up onto it, throwing your arms around Muriel’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his lips. He blinked in surprise, then went a dark crimson.

 

“You could have just asked and I would have…” He trailed off as you beamed at him.

 

“I didn’t want you to kiss me,” You said, “I wanted to kiss you!”

 

“I don’t understand the distinction,” 

 

“You don’t?” You teased, tilting your head. “Okay, kiss me,”

 

He leaned forward and pressed his lips into yours, sweetly, softly. You smiled into it, and hummed happily. 

 

When you parted, you grinned mischievously. “Now, I’ll kiss you,” 

 

You leaned forward again and pressed your lips to his, bringing one hand up and tangling it in his hair. You moved your lips against his, and he mirrored you, letting you deepen the kiss and push your tongue into his mouth. You moved your hands, cupping his face, drawing back, biting his bottom lip and then leaning back. 

 

“Can you tell the difference?”

 

Muriel’s face was an even deeper crimson than it had been before. “I… Think that you should kiss me more often,”

 

You laughed, and pecked his lips again before he lifted you down from the chair, holding you to him in a tight hug before setting you on the ground gently. “I will. Now, go feed those chickens, and I have herbs and charms to sell,”

 

“Do you have the one I gave you?” He asked, suddenly serious. You furrowed your brow and pulled the pouch of myrrh from your shirt. 

 

“This one?”

 

Muriel frowned. “No… The other one…”

 

You paused, then perked up. “It’s in my bag, inside,”

 

Muriel scowled. “You should keep it with you,”

 

You blushed. “I will. I’ll get it from my bag when I go back in and put it on too,”

 

“Promise?”

 

“I promise,” You said, smiling and holding out your pinky finger. He frowned at it, then linked his pinky around yours. You couldn’t curl yours all the way around his like you could with Asra’s long, slender fingers, but you smiled all the same. 

 

“Okay. Bye, see you later,”

 

“Okay!” You said, waving. 

 

“I’ll come to get you,” He said over his shoulder as Inanna trotted up beside him, “don’t go into the woods alone,”

 

You frowned. “I do it all the time,”

 

“Don’t do it today,” He said, “I have a bad feeling,”

 

You nodded, and watched him leave. 

 

Your day flew by, and you had to excuse yourself to a lot of people why you had been closed such odd hours recently. One customer, a young woman, came in nervous and hurriedly looking around herself. 

 

“Can you make me a good luck charm? Or… give me a spell to make my cat come back?”

 

“That depends on what happened to your cat. I can’t raise the dead,”

 

The woman looked close to tears. “Oh! I don’t know what happened to her! She slips out every time my father leaves the door open, but normally I just find her a few feet into the woods,” The young woman was wide eyed and panicked-looking. Your stomach went icy. “I just… I don’t know what to do! She’s not coming to her name, no one in the market has seen her-“

 

“What does she look like?”

 

“She’s a brown tabby with green eyes,” The woman said. You nodded. 

 

“What’s your name, and where do you live?”

 

“Terra,” She said, “Eastern district, not far from the bastard’s statue down there. You know-“

 

“The one that someone poured red paint on?”

 

“Yeah! I live in the house with the purple door and the aloe in the window,”

 

You nodded. “I go out in the woods for herbs. Deep. I’ll look for her. What did you say her name was?”

 

“Sprite,” Terra said, looking thankful, tears finally spilling down her cheeks, “Oh, thank you! I just want to know what happened to her. I could kill my father, I swear-“

 

You waved your hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Don’t worry. If I find her I’ll bring her to you with a charmed collar and a barrier spell to stop her getting out again. You’ll have to bring the collar in once a month to make sure it doesn’t fade, but-“

 

But Terra has already sprung across the counter and yanked you into a tight hug. 

 

“Thank you, I’d pay you in a pound of flesh to get her back-“

 

You laughed. “Five tin pieces will do for the collar. If I find her. No good talking pounds of flesh and silver if she’s already back in your house,”

 

“Either way, when she turns up, I’ll ask you for the spell,” Terra said, turning around, “I’m going to go ask Tennison if she’s seen her. Thank you again!”

 

“Good luck!” You called, waving her out. You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was an hour until closing time, but…

 

You shuffled your cards quickly and pulled one without thinking, glancing down at it and gasping.

 

Ten of swords. Upright.

 

_ What if the cat is caught in a snare?  _ You slapped the card back atop the deck and summoned the flag down the pole, throwing it haphazardly onto the counter and rushing out of the door, warding it in a hurry and swearing as you rushed out and into the cool woods. You weaved your way through the trees, checking snares and uprooting them as you went.

 

It was your fault, really. You were worried. Frantic. You didn’t see it. You weren’t paying attention.

 

And, after all. You didn’t bring your bag. No knife. No protective charm. No advice.

 

You must have hit a trip wire. You must have knocked something aside without thinking- because you felt something tighten around your ankles and swing upward, slamming your back and head into the ground before you were hoisted into the air. A cluster of bells were tied to the branch, and they chimes loudly as you swung back, hitting the tree trunk hard and then swinging back out sickeningly, swaying back and forth, your head aching, your back bruised, and your vision swimming as you swung back and forth. 

 

Once your brain had caught up to you, and you saw the thick rope tied around your ankles. “Oh fuck,” You groaned, trying to reach up and untie it. You couldn’t get to it, not with your back so sore and your head aching. The bells continued to ring as your weight shook the branch. 

 

You hung there for a long time, trying to shake yourself free, trying to reach the trunk, trying to do anything but hang there, helpless, ringing the bells overhead to let the poacher know he’d caught something.

 

You paused. You looked around, checking the area around yourself. What use would a trap like this do for any animal large enough to trip it?

 

Then it struck your blood-filled head. This wasn’t a trap for a wolf or a bear-

 

This was a trap for you.

 

“... Oh  _ Fuck… _ ”

 

You heard a laugh, and footsteps behind you. You tensed up, trying to swivel, trying to look behind you.

  
“Oh, fuck is right…” A man’s voice drawled. It was…  _ Familiar. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs!!!!:
> 
> That Dress, The Pale White
> 
> Trouble, The New Respects
> 
> Sinister Kid, The Black Keys


	10. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MC is in trouble. A situation. A pickle, if you will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not proud of this chapter so sorry if it seems rushed but I also don’t wanna like, make this fic about my ocs and their drama

Shoes, worn in and average, came into view, and you looked up just as he squatted down, grinning. Dark green hair, black eyes, a crooked smile. Even upside down and sober, you recognised him.

 

“Gylbart?”

 

Gylbart grinned. “No name! Little Songbird! You’re the one who's been robbing me blind, huh?” He reached forward and tapped your head, sending you swinging back and forth. You felt sick. 

 

“You’re the poacher?” You snapped, reaching out to grab him. He dodged your hands, standing back up and grabbing you behind the thigh, turning you around. You struggled, trying to jam your elbow into any part of him that you could reach. He laughed at your attempt and pushed you, sending you swinging. 

 

“Oh I hate that word,” He drawled, stepping back as you moved sickeningly back and forth, trying to reach the ground to stop yourself. “I’m a trapper,”

 

“An illegal trapper,” You snapped. Gylbart laughed again.

 

“Illegal? Who cares? Who’s out here enforcing laws anymore? No one cares about these woods, songbird!”

 

You scowled. Gylbart was watching you swung back and forth with a satisfied smile. A cat that had finally gotten the canary’s cage to open. “I care,” you snapped, crossing your arms. You were desperately trying to think of a spell that would get you out of this particular situation, and nothing was coming to mind.

 

“Of course you do…” Gylbart purred, walking forward and catching you, stilling you, leaning down again to look you in the eye. “You know… this is such a shame. A real shame. I actually liked you. Thought you were funny. I even paid your tab! Mind you, you drank a  _ lot _ . I didn’t know you’d been there all day. And all along you’ve been the one driving me out of business. What am I going to do with you now?”

 

“Let me go and see the error of your ways?” You suggested sarcastically. Gylbart laughed. 

 

“See? You’re funny. We could have been friends, had you not been such an insufferable goodie two shoes. But here we are… I really don’t want to kill you, songbird,”

 

“Why not? You seem to have no problem skinning anything that you can catch in a snare,” You growled, trying to kick free of your bindings, even as Gylbart held you still. 

 

“It’s not something I enjoy,” He snapped, looking a little cross, “But we all have to eat,”

 

“There are other ways to do things,” You snapped, “Other ways to hunt. Not just trapping anything that stumbles by, whether you’ll use it or not,”

 

Gylbart scowled and shook his head. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about,”

 

You sneered, struck with an idea. A desperate idea. I hopeful one. You reached up and tapped your throat, filling your lungs and letting out a very convincing howl. Gylbart jumped back, looking surprised, but you just took another breath and howled again as loud as you could manage, before tapping your throat again and gasping. Gylbart blinked, then shook his head. 

 

“Well… your voice does more than I gave you credit for, songbird, but… what the hell was that supposed to do?”

 

You swallowed, looking up at him. “Maybe nothing,” You said, “We’ll have to see,”

 

Gylbart frowned, tilting his head and looking at you with confusion. “What, are you calling the wild things out from the forest to help you?” His face broke into a smile. “Am I supposed to be afraid of you now? Or scared that something in these woods is going to answer your call? Am I meant to be frightened of you now that I know that you howl like a dog?” He laughed, pulling a knife from a sheath at his side, stepping near yet again, squatting down so that you were face to face, his black eyes sparkling as he smirked at you. You swallowed nervously, but grit your teeth. 

 

“No,” You hissed, “I’m perfectly happy with you unafraid,”

 

Gylbart tilted his head, smile disappearing. The black, bottomless eyes narrowed a little, and he looked like he was considering doing something drastic. 

 

“I just… don’t want to kill you,” He said, shaking his head. “I really don’t know what it is about you. There’s really no reason for me to hesitate. I should just cut your throat and have done with it, but it feels like it would be such a  _ waste. _ A pretty face, a nice voice. But what am I going to do? Tie you up in my house? No. I have to kill you. This is such a major bummer!” He sighed, and lifted the knife again. “Really, it’s such a damn waste. A real shame. You just… had to meddle, didn’t you? Couldn’t just leave it be. It really is quite distressing, you know,”

 

“My condolences,” You snarled. Gylbart sighed. 

 

“I really… This is gonna ruin my week, you know,”

 

“Oh dear, really?” You said, listening carefully.  _ Keep going, keep talking you dickhead… _ “An entire week?”

 

Gylbart laughed, withdrawing the knife. “Ah, maybe longer. Why did you have to be such a tree hugger? We really could have gotten along if you weren’t so far up your own ass,”

 

“Mm, It could just be my own misconceptions,” You said, with the air of conceding. Gylbart tilted his head, looking happily surprised. 

 

“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? People all love furs, but hate how they’re made,”

 

“Yeah, that’s true,” You said, and maybe it was just in your head, but you thought your heard heavy footsteps in the distance. Gylbart was working himself up, twirling his knife in his hand. He was preening, happy to be agreed with, to think himself convincing. 

 

You cast around desperately for a way to keep him talking, but then you saw her, she struck the crest of the outcropping behind Gylbart’s head, spraying you both with leaves and dirt. Inanna snarled, beginning to slink over the crest, low and prowling, her growl like a rolling thunder. Gylbart froze still when he heard it, and you grinned.

 

“Oh, allow me to introduce you two!” You said, tilting your head, “Gylbart! Meet one of my very best friends! Inanna! Inanna… Remember how we met?” You said, watching as Inanna slunk slowly around to place herself between Gylbart and you. She was snarling, her eyes fixed on his face. You looked up at him too. “It was all courtesy of him,”

 

Inanna barked loudly at him, and he startled backward. You eyed the knife in his hand, held loosely, but only for now, and wondered if it had been a good idea to call Inanna here- even if you hadn’t been sure that she would come. You were putting her at risk. 

 

“Inanna,” You said, voice quiet, maybe even too low for Gylbart to hear. “Inanna… go home. Tell Muriel what happened to me. Tell him I’m sorry,”

 

Inanna stopped advancing on Gylbart, but continued to snarl at him. You swallowed again, trying to curl up, to reach your feet one last time, but the strength wasn’t in you. 

 

“Inanna. Go,” You said, voice louder now. Inanna backed away and turned, sprinting off again, even faster than she came. You closed your eyes tightly. Gylbart let out a laugh. 

 

“Wow, you really just sent away your last chance at survival. What the hell is up with you?”

 

“You would have… you would have hurt her. It’s not worth that,” You said, glaring up at him, tears stinging your eyes and running into your hair. “I’m not worth her life,”

 

Gylbart pulled a face like he thought you were insane, but you didn’t care. It was the truth. You valued Inanna like a friend, and you wouldn’t let a friend die for your sake. 

 

“You think that some dumb animal is worth dying over?” Gylbart snapped. You sighed. 

 

“You’re the one who doesn’t know what you’re talking about,” You snapped, “You don’t have a clue. You think the only life that matters is your own. They all matter, you grass-brained loser,”

 

“Did you really just call me a grass-brained loser?”

 

“Fine! You fuckheaded imbicile! Is that better?”

 

“I liked being called a grass-brained loser better,” he sighed. “I guess I should kill you now. Sorry about this, really, but like you said. No life is as valuable to me as my own, so…” He shrugged, “I have to,”

 

“Okay, have fun,” you said, baring your throat and gritting your teeth, your eyes falling closed. 

 

You felt the cold press of metal to your throat, the sting of your skin cleaving apart against the sharp edge of the knife…

 

“I really… I really am sorry,”

 

“Shut up and do it, you soulless cretin…” You growled. There was a heavy noise, another spray of dirt, and you felt Gylbart lift the knife away.

 

“Don’t  _ touch them _ ,” 

 

You eyes flew open, and you were looking up at Muriel, standing there and looking moments from murder. You gasped.

 

“Muriel! I swear I can explain!” You said, struggling again and quickly healing the cut on your neck, wishing you could wipe the blood away as easily. Muriel glanced at you and then back to Gylbart. He stepped forward and caught his wrist, pulling the knife from his hand and flinging it aside. Gylbart was speechless, staring up at Muriel.

 

“Oh my-”

 

Every muscle in your body was tense, and you seemed to sense what was about to happen before it happened. There was a snap, a quick noise, and Gylbart fell to the ground, limp. At first, you thought that Muriel had done something, but he was looking around at the treetops, confused. You looked back down at Gylbart’s body, and you saw a dart sticking out of the back of his neck. Muriel rushed forward, and caught you, pulling you up into his arms and cradling you while you loosened the knot around your ankles and shed the rope, hissing at the raw skin and bruising. 

 

You looked up into Muriel’s worried face, but then you both turned. 

 

They landed nimbly, having leapt down from a tree limb. Cailin was dressed differently, in hunting gear, still not exactly modest, but there was no mistaking them for a prostitute now. They were grinning, golden eyes sharp on you and you alone, the dart gun in their hand. 

 

“Nameless. Look at you! I knew I liked you. You lead me right to the bastard,” Cailin grinned wider, looking more animalistic than ever, straightening up and tilting their head. “I’ve been trying to catch the trapper in this area for weeks. I suspected him, that’s why I was singing at that seedy bar, but couldn’t be sure. Then I heard you howling and came for a look! Lo and behold, all the proof I need,” 

 

Muriel stepped back with you, but Cailin didn’t even acknowledge him, and just plodded over to Gylbart, picking him up and slinging him over their shoulder with surprising strength. You scrambled to try to find words to apply to the scene in front of you, but came up sadly short. 

 

Cailin turned back to look at you, still cradled in Muriel’s arms, and winked. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re not the only person in these woods trying to keep things fair. Not the only one with a vested interest either,”

 

Inanna was looking at Cailin curiously, and Cailin looked back at her. 

 

There seemed to be understanding there, but you, and it seemed Muriel, weren’t in on the secret. Caitlin’s sharp teeth seemed even more prominent now than they had in your drunken stupor. Something was off. 

 

They just weren’t quite right. 

 

They shifted Gylbart further up their shoulder and sighed, “Ah, here comes the surprise. I’ll see you around, nameless. I really will,” They tapped their cheekbone, just under their eye, and winked. “Right to the soul. Catch you later,”

 

And then Cailin carried Gylbart off, whether he was dead or unconscious was a mystery. You looked back up at Muriel, shock on your face. “What the hell just happened?”

 

Muriel pursed his lips and turned away, carrying you back toward his hut. “I told you. You need to wait for me before you start wandering around in the woods. It’s dangerous,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs:
> 
> Canary, Joy Williams
> 
> Shut Up And Let Me Go, The Ting Tings


	11. Transitional- a lack of actual content

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nothing actually happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, this is just the chapter between chapters, i’m afraid

Back in Muriel’s cabin, seated on the bed with Inanna’s head in your lap and your shirt unbuttoned at the chest, Muriel was wiping the blood gently from your neck with a warm, wet cloth.

 

He had been silent for a long time, eyes focused on trying to find the place where the knife had cut you. You fidgeted, and he pulled away, looking cautious.

 

“Am I hurting you?” 

 

“What? No. I’m fine. I healed the wound. It’s just a little blood, that’s all,”

 

“Are you tired?”

 

“No,” You said, “I’m fine, really,”

 

“Let me see your ankles,” He said, setting the cloth back in the bowl of water, where your blood began to wash off of it slowly. You sighed and let him pull your ankles into his lap, and rolled your trouser legs up, revealing the extent of the rope burn on your ankles. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he looked down at the raw, bleeding skin, and the bruising that surrounded them. 

 

“It’s fine. Just a little sore, that’s all,” 

 

Muriel pulled the cloth from the bowl again and began to wash your wounds, so gingerly that you could hardly feel it. You watched him, leaning back with your hands on his mattress and your eyes on his face. 

 

“You didn’t get your protective charm, did you?”

 

You blushed, your eyes landing on you knees. “No, I… I didn’t,”

 

Muriel frowned, dabbing at some dried blood on your ankle bone and looking upset. “I wish you had kept it with you. You could have… I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt. You  _ did _ get hurt. It could have been worse… I don’t know…”

 

“I’m okay, everything is okay,”

 

Muriel met your eyes and set your legs down, leaning forward and dropping the cloth back into the bowl as he did. He picked you up and pulled you into his lap as he moved from the mattress to the bed, hugging you to him tightly. You reached down, and in full view of him, you reached down and healed your ankles, even the bruises. You would have nothing to remember the incident by. You looked back up at him.

 

“See? Everything’s fine. It’s like it never happened,”

 

“It could have been so much worse…” 

 

“But it wasn’t. You came by and you saved me,” You rested your forehead on his chest, and you felt something jump into your lap. At first you thought it was Inanna pawing at your leg, but when you looked down, a tiny brown tabby was purring, rubbing its face on your stomach. You looked up at Muriel, shocked.

 

“Did… did you get a cat?” 

 

“It was bothering the chickens. I didn’t want it to keep doing that. And… it gets cold at night… Inanna doesn’t like it,”

 

“Well I think I know where she came from. Sprite?”

 

The cat perked up at her name, looking up at you in happy surprise. You smiled and hugged her to you. 

 

“Oh, your mother will be so glad I found you safe and sound. Thank you, Muriel, for bringing her in,” You leaned up and after a little bit of fidgeting, managed to plant a kiss on his burning cheek. He was very pink, looking down at you, hugging the cat and beaming. 

 

“... well you aren’t going anywhere right now. You need rest, and I’m going to make you food. After that I’ll walk you home,”

 

You pressed your face back into Muriel’s chest and hummed, wiggling yourself further into his grip. He blushed even darker and focused on the crown of your head, playing idly with your hair. You smiled, your eyes beginning to grow heavy as he began to run his fingers through it. Eventually they fell closed, and you drifted off to sleep. 

 

When you awoke, it was to Muriel, brushing your hair back from your forehead and looking at you with his usual concerned tension. The way his eyes took you in, like he was nervous at any moment you would disappear, or break, made your heart ache. It was too soon to say it, you knew, you really knew, but you loved him. You realised it, tucked into his bed, with Inanna at your side and Sprite curled up at your feet, his cabin smelling strongly of his cooking and his concern and affection washing over you like the warmth of a fire drying a damp shirt- you knew, with your whole heart and your empty memory and your strange unfamiliar body.

 

You had nothing but love for the man before you. 

 

“I made soup,” He said sheepishly, his hand still brushing your hair back, his callouses dragging along your skin and catching gently in your hair. Your heart throbbed. You were overwhelmed. You were drowning in your adoration, it was hitting you all at once as you looked up at him. You ached to tell him, but you couldn’t. Not so soon. Not Muriel.

 

He would be frightened. Instead you took his hand and sat up, smiling and brushing your thumb over his palm. “Soup sounds amazing,” You said, pressing your lips to the gentle swell of the muscle on his palm that moved his thumb to carve the beautiful figures that littered his hut and your heart was singing like your throat under a spell and it was too much to keep in-

 

But Muriel blushed and pulled you to your feet, guiding you to your seat at his table and the bowl that was already set there, filled with an egg soup that smelled heavenly. You smiled brightly at him, and sat down, waiting until he sat across from you with his own bowl to eat.

 

After a while, you cast around for something to do to pass the time, and asked Muriel to help you review your runes. He nodded, leaving to wash the bowls and spoons before returning with dry hands and pulling his rune bag from his cloak, which was hanging by the door. He sat on the bed, and you laid on it, letting your head fall in his lap and looking up at him as he pulled the pieces one by one. He handed them to you, and you would trade your interpretations, talking over their meanings. He listened carefully to your opinions and would tell you when he thought you were off, or when you had a good insight you hadn’t heard before. 

 

He had a tendency toward negative interpretations, you noticed, and you made an effort to remind him of the positive ones. You cracked jokes, and kept the growing pile of runes on your stomach with one hand while holding the one you were discussing up to look at. 

 

You could have spent an eternity like that, spread out on his bed with a cat and a wolf and your head on his lap. You could have wasted all your days there. But eventually you had to move. Once all the runes were run through you put them back and picked up Sprite, letting her climb onto your shoulders before moving to set off. 

 

“Wait. I have to walk you home,” Muriel said, pulling his cloak on and moving to follow you. You let him take your hand and you both walked through the woods, Inanna plodding out after you, looping around the pair of you like a guard, keeping the perimeter. 

 

Muriel kept your hand in his, lifting you and Sprite over mud puddles and logs that he stepped over with ease, eventually bringing you to your shop.

 

“Would you like to come in?” You offered, tilting your head and pushing the door open as sprite leapt down from your shoulder and ran off to explore the shop.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs: 
> 
> Small Victory, Transviolet


	12. Soul Recycling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You learn a lil more over lunch. So much drama just recently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long i’m frankly very uninspired recently

Muriel and yourself were in the kitchen again, and he was watching you cook. You were boiling eggs from the market and mixing a salad, slicing tomatoes and plucking basil from the plant on the window sill. Muriel peered over your shoulder into the pot and blinked at the little speckled eggs inside it.

 

“Do you eat a lot of eggs?”

 

You shrugged. “Yeah, I’d say so. They don’t always have them at market, sometimes they’re sold out by the time I manage to get down there,”

 

“You don’t need to buy eggs,” Muriel said, flushing, “I’ll bring you some. That way you’ll always have them,”

 

You smiled up at him brightly, and he flushed an even darker pink, looking away and clearing his throat. You couldn’t help but laugh. Only Muriel could stay so shy, even after you’d slept together. 

 

Muriel sat down and began examining the wood of the table carefully as you pulled the eggs from the water and peeled them, setting them on a plate and then putting the salad and the eggs down on the table in front of Muriel. You placed plates and cutlery down on either side of the table, and took the seat across from him, beaming at him and shovelling some salad onto your plate. He stabbed an egg with his fork and cut it up, mixing it with his salad and shovelling it into his mouth. you crossed your ankles and flashed him a smile. 

 

“What’s up?” 

 

“Well… I… I like it here, but…”

 

“But what?”

 

“But I want you to… come… live with me,”

 

You paused, looking at him with wide eyes. “You want me to do what?”

 

Muriel flushed. “I would like you to come live with me,” He said, much faster this time, his grip on his fork causing his knuckles to whiten. You swallowed dryly and slid you eyes over his face. 

 

“Muriel, we haven’t known each other that long-“

 

“You haven’t known me that long,” He corrected. You stared at him, wide eyed. 

 

“What?”

 

He looked up at you, green eyes unsteady, expression nervous. “... I know you. From before. But… You don’t remember,” 

 

You gaped at him, all your words having left you. You took in a breath, but the air in the room was thick, congealed, reluctant to enter your lungs. You tried again, with little more success, and you drew into yourself, hugging yourself tightly. 

 

“... How… How long did you know me?”

 

Muriel pursed his lips and sat back. “Years,”

 

“How… how old am I? Do… Do you know?” 

 

Muriel shook his head. You leaned forward.

 

“How did we meet?”

 

“Both street rats,”

 

“Did I have… family?”

 

“No,” He said, reverting back to his old, stony demeanour, “No one,”

 

You sat back. “Were we… did we…”

 

Muriel shook his head. “We were… friends. And Asra,”

 

“Asra knew me? And he never?” You chest hurt. Your lungs stopped drawing in air altogether. Muriel’s eyes widened. He looked around as you clutched your chest desperately. he rushed forward, and your head felt like it was splitting. he pulled you out of your chair and onto the floor.

 

“Don’t try to remember!” He barked, clutching at your face and looking into your eyes. You took a deep breath, and looked him in the eyes, hands still over your chest. Muriel shook his head. “Let the past go. You can’t get it back. It’s why Asra didn’t tell you. I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry,”

 

“What… what’s happening to me?” 

 

“I can’t tell you, and please, don’t try to remember who you were. You’re you now, and that’s what matters. I… I’m in love with you, and I want so desperately to keep you safe. Please…”

 

You were still panting for breath, looking at him and then looking around.

 

“What… What else is a lie?”

 

“Don’t ask me that,”

 

You pulled away from him. “New soul my ass,” You snapped. He recoiled like you had burned him, and your heart hurt in a different way.

 

“I really meant it,” He hissed. “Even… even before. You’ve always had a young spirit. Thought the best of people. Laughed like nothing weighed you down. It’s no wonder… You draw people to you. Don’t you see it? People just want to be close to you,”

 

You frowned at him, hugging yourself. “Am I cursed?”

 

Muriel leaned forward, slowly cupping your face. You leaned into it, slowly bringing your hands to his wrists, looking up at his face and blinking away the tears that sent your vision swimming.

 

“You’re not cursed,” He said, voice low, a coo, a soothing rumble, “You’re… You’re a blessing in and of yourself. You got to start over without any of the pain of your past. No real regrets. You…” He edged in closer, eyes searching your face. “I’ve never met anyone who deserves a second chance like you. And you got it. Just know that you got it,”

 

You sniffed, and Muriel leaned forward quickly, in a rush, pressing his lips to yours with a swell of desperation, inevitable, like the tide, drawn to you by love and souls and second chances, a magnetic pull like the moon moving the water. 

 

You kissed him back. You kissed him back through tears and a heartache for a past you’d never get to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs.
> 
> Way Down We Go, KALEO
> 
> Never Meant To Be, Welshy Arms


	13. No Point Crying Over Spilled Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You bring the cat back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH idk if I like it but here’s a chapter

You delivered Sprite to Terra. Terra had hugged you and sobbed into your shoulder before you set up barriers on her doors and windows that the cat couldn't cross. Muriel waited outside, hood drawn low and arms crossed as you worked. Terra pressed twenty tin pieces into your hands and hugged you again.

 

“You’re a beautiful soul, Witch,” She cried. You blushed and hugged her back.

 

“Look after that kitten, okay?” You said, before pulling away and walking out. Muriel, the second the door was shut, pulled you closer to him with a hand on your waist.

 

“She was handsy,” He growled, tucking your hair behind your ear and frowning. You laughed.

 

“Some people are just physically affectionate,” You said, leaning into his touch.

 

He huffed and made a face that was very like a pout. You laughed and caught his hand, bringing it to your lips and kissing his knuckles. “If you’d like to show me just how physically affectionate _you_ are,” You said, your voice dropping as you edged closer, “We can go back to the shop right now…”

 

Muriel flushed, but with one smooth motion he swept you off your feet and began carrying you back to your shop. You laughed and pressed your lips to his cheek.

 

With his long strides it took no time at all before he had carried you over the threshold of your shop and kicked the door closed behind you. He carried you all the way up the stairs, and he laid you gently on your bed, you caught his face in your hands and pulled him down, so his lips met yours, and kissed him deeply. He pulled his cloak from himself as you ran your hands back, across his broad shoulders, then bringing one hand to his hair while you trailed the other down his stomach to play with the waistband of his trousers. He leaned back, breaking your kiss, looking at you with an expression of hunger and want the took your breath away. He began to pull your shirt up, over your head, when you heard the door open downstairs, accompanied by the heavy cream of human footsteps. You hissed an oath and scrambled to your feet, rushing back down the stairs and freezing at the bottom.

 

“Ah, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes,” Asra laughed, pulling his overcoat off and hanging it up alongside his bag and striding forward, “You look flustered, were you just getting ready for a bath? You shirt’s all-“ He paused, and his eyes fell on the stairs behind you. You glanced up and saw Muriel, cloakless and uncomfortable looking, staring at Asra with the expression of a dog caught stealing from the table. He broke eye contact and glared at the floor determinedly. You cleared your throat.

 

“Asra! Welcome home! Muriel told me that you two know one another! And that you’ve known one another for a long time!” _And that you’ve known me for a long time as well._ You thought bitterly as you smiled. Asra’s eyes narrowed at Muriel, even as he kept his sunshiny smile.

 

“Oh he did?” He said. He hummed, “And how long have you two known one another, as I’m at such an apparent disadvantage?”

 

“We met a while ago, while I was in the woods. I found Inanna in a bear trap,”

 

“I told you not to go there,” Asra said sharply, still looking at Muriel. You walked forward and caught Asra’s hand, offering him a placating smile and drawing him further into the store, toward the kitchen. He came along with you, albeit reluctantly, continuingly looking over his shoulder at Muriel, who was trailing along behind you and looking as though he’d rather be anywhere than there at that moment.

 

You sat Asra down in one chair, and Muriel in the one across from it, then set about making tea as they sat silently staring either at you or one another. You boiled the kettle, spooned the leaves into the largest teapot, the one you used when you had company. You set the mugs carefully down in front of them both, and then waited for the kettle to get hot enough.

 

It took a long time, and you could feel them both staring sharply at your back.

 

When the water was finally finished, you poured the water into the pot and set it on the table as well. Your mug was an afterthought, and you sat on a stool that you went to fetch from the reading room. You poured the tea out, one cup at a time, watching the water fill each with a focus that pouring tea didn’t really require. They were both still staring at you. When your cup was filled, you set the teapot back down, still with your eyes fixed on there table.

 

The silence continued. You cleared your throat again and moved to get up. “I forgot biscuits-“

 

Muriel caught your arm. “I don’t think any of us wants biscuits right now,”

 

You sat back down and stared at the table again.

 

“... Care to explain what you were doing upstairs with my apprentice, Muriel?” Asra spoke with a coldness you hadn’t ever heard from him before. You swallowed.

 

“We were-“

 

Asra held up his hand. “Not you,” He said, “I don’t need an explanation from _you_ . I need _Muriel_ to explain,”

 

Muriel just looked at him, pained and a little angry. Asra shook his head.

 

“I just… Don’t understand how this happened,”

 

“Well maybe if you let me speak, I could explain!” You snapped angrily. Asra turned to you, face flushed.

 

“You can’t explain anything without understanding the full- You don’t know the history behind-“

 

You stood, bumping the table and knocking over your mug, sending the others rattling desperately. Both Asra and Muriel looked more than a little startled. “The history behind what, exactly?” You snapped, staring Asra down as the tea that had been in your mug ran across the table, beginning to trickle through the cracks in the wood. “The history between the two of you? The history behind the three of us? Because to be frank I don’t know dick about any history at all! That means nothing, by the way, when I comes to what I do, and with who!”

 

“The three-“ Asra said, blinking quickly before rounding on Muriel again, “Gods, Muriel, how much did you tell them? Do you even know what you’re playing at here?”

 

Your tea was dripping to the floor now, and you slapped your hands down on the table top spraying the three of you with droplets.

 

“I’m an adult and I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t care about the history behind it all, behind us, I can’t remember it! It’s the past! Leave it there!”

 

Muriel ducked his head, still blushing. Asra got to his feet too.

 

“How am I supposed to let it go? You don’t know what happened! You don’t know what it was like! What I did for you!”

 

“What you- What are you talking about?”

 

Asra was fuming. Lips pursed, face flushed, looking for all the world like he wanted to shout but couldn’t. You sneered and turned away.

 

“No answers, just like always. C’mon,” you caught Muriel’s hand, “It looks like I’m taking you up on your offer,”

 

“You- you are?” Muriel asked, bewildered as you pulled him upstairs. You rushed to your room and started packing.

 

“I am. I’m not going to sit here and be reprimanded because I love you,”

 

“You what?”

 

“I love you, Muriel. I adore you! I’ve loved you the whole time, I think, and you’re… you’re worth leaving everything for,”

 

Muriel was wide eyed and flushed, and you pulled your bag onto your shoulder and offered him his cloak.

 

“You still want me to move in with you, don’t you?”

 

“Of course… but…”

 

“But what?”

 

“But are you sure? This isn’t just…” He waved behind him.

 

You hesitated, thinking hard, taking stock of all the whirling feelings in your chest, the chaos that resided in your lungs, the war being waged by your heart and your head…

 

“I’m sure,” You said, catching his hand, “I’m sure I want this,”

 

“Well then… who am I to tell you no?”

 

“The person who owns the house I’m planning on moving into?”

 

“Fair point, but still, I already offered,”

 

“Well, either way,” You said. Muriel’s lip quirked in an almost smile.

 

You adjusted the bag and led him out of the house, stomping past Asra, whose eyes you refused to meet, and storming out of the door. You dragged Muriel all the way through the woods to his hut, but once you were there, you collapsed onto the bed and held your head in shaking hands.

 

Muriel kneeled in front of you and brushed your hair back, away from your face. You sniffed and offered him a watery smile, catching his hands and kissing his knuckles again. He looked at you intensely, but mercifully said nothing.

 

You pulled him up, and beside you, bringing him to rest beside you and tangling your legs with his. You pressed your face against his chest, pulling your fingers along the straps there.

 

“Can I take your chains back off?”

 

“...Yes,” He said, and you did, pulling the metal cuffs away from him.

 

He held you gently, and you held him back, and the day passed you both by as though it didn’t see you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs:
> 
> Wax & Wane, Alana Henderson
> 
> Porcelain, Skott


	14. Run From Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wander off into the woods again fucking dammit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I force my ocs on everyone again

It was night, you were late coming back from gathering flowers to use in woodstain. You’d been living at Muriel’s for a month. You were happy. He carved things from wood and you stained them and sold them at market, always avoiding Asra’s shop. You understood Muriel’s desire to make people forget him now. You wished that you could wipe that slate clean.

 

But you couldn’t. 

 

Then you heard it, pouring out of the woods. A howl- not like Inannas. Deeper. 

 

You turned, walking out toward it. You didn’t really know why. You couldn’t even begin to understand why you felt so drawn to it. You wished you could say you were worried that something was hurting, that you wanted to offer help, but it wasn’t that.

 

You wanted to see. That was the beginning and the end of it. 

 

You took your basket of flowers and you strode deeper into the woods. The full moon hung high overhead and something chilled your bones in the rustle of leaves. Deeper than your bones-

 

There was a chill in your soul as you walked out, weaving around trees and gripping the handle of your basket nervously.

 

The howl stopped. There was a loud snap of branches and a thunderous cacophony of footfalls. You were struck by something heavy across your back and toppled forward, rolling over and looking around. A massive figure, the size of a bear and letting out a low growl, was stalking slowly back toward you. You scrambled back, letting out a terrified squeak as you kicked out against the cool dirt. It was a wolf- but massive. Breathtakingly large, and a little… off. Malproportioned. Forelegs too long and hair around the neck and chest thicker than the rest of its fur. 

 

It snapped at one of your ankles just as you whipped it out of the way, and you shot back again, losing the support your arms gave you and falling…

 

But your back hit something solid and warm, and you looked up to see an even bigger wolf snarling at the first. You whimpered and sank into the ground, but the second wolf simply stepped over you, keeping you between it’s front paws and snapping at the smaller wolf. The first wolf turned tail and bolted, leaving you at the mercy of its rival.

 

You shut your eyes and grit your teeth as you felt it shift, pacing out and about to face you. Hot breath washed over your face. You whimpered again, and grit your teeth, trying to be brave, but nothing happened.

 

You opened your eyes and you were met with two golden irises staring back at you, through you. Your heart stopped. 

 

“I-“ You swallowed. Inexplicably, the wolf blinked. “I’m very sorry to have gotten in your way,” 

 

The wolf edged forward, and you squeaked uncomfortably, but the wolf simply sniffed you, it’s cold nose tracing along your neck and up to your hair. You whimpered, and your hands curled into fists in the dirt at your sides. 

 

“Please don’t eat me,” You said. The wolf snorted, and you flinched, but it was almost like a laugh. You swallowed. 

 

You looked around, and realise that in your wandering you seemed to have lost your way. Everything looked strange in the dark. Even if this massive, cart-sized wolf decided  _ not _ to eat you, the other one would likely come back, and the more you moved, the more lost you would get.

 

“I really do need to stop wandering in the woods,” You said, your voice tremulous. You looked back up at the wolf still watching you carefully.

 

“On second thought, you may as well eat me, but if you do, please make it quick,”

 

The wolf snorted again. You reached out hesitantly and ran your hand along the side of its massive face, feeling the fur there. Grey and strangely soft. 

 

“I’ll take that as a firm no on the devouring, then,” You said. “Well… I don’t really know what to do. Should I try to find my way home, or should I stay out and hope that other guy doesn’t come back?”

 

The wolf got up and stretched languidly, letting out a little groan and pacing around the back of you. It laid down, curling around you, and rested it’s massive head in your lap. You blinked down at it for a moment in shock, but then brushed your hand through its fur again and settled back into its side. 

 

“Are you going to keep me safe tonight then?”

 

The wolf yawned and licked its chops, closing its eyes and letting out a huff. You laughed. 

 

“Lucky me. I always seem to stumble into something bigger and badder just in the nick of time,”

 

The wolf cracked one eye and peered up at you, and you smiled again. 

 

“I’m just joking. I know you’re not bad. Wolves can’t be bad. You’re just… wolves,”

 

The wolf sighed heavily and let its eye fall shut again, and after a while, you did too. You fell asleep there, curled up with a wolf at your side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs!:
> 
> Wolves Without Teeth, Of Monsters And Men
> 
> The Wolf, Phidel
> 
> Howl, Florence + The Machine


	15. Lil Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) i’m so transparent

The sun filtering through the leaves awoke you, and it took you a moment to get your bearings. You were flat on your back on the forest floor, staring up at the canopy and… something was shifting next to you. 

You shot upright and stared down at the body beside yours. Short grey hair, full lips, lashes that graced their cheeks as they slept- Long limbs that you had seen more of than you had meant to already…

 

It was Cailin, the pretty singer from the bar. And they were stark naked and covered in dirt.

 

You yelped and scrambled away from them. They groaned and rubbed their eyes, looking up at you blearily. 

 

“Shit, it’s already over? I wish every month was that easy. I didn’t eat anything last night though did I? I’m starving. You don’t have any food on you, do you?”

 

“... What. The. Fuck?”

 

Cailin yawned and sat up, and you looked away, blushing. “Well, my memory is never super clear the morning after, but I think your buddy Gylliander was starting trouble again,”

 

“Gylbart?” You gasped, turning back to Cailin and gaping at them. They smiled.

 

“Yeah him. He’s out here now. I turned him as punishment for poaching in my forest. Sucks for him, he shoulda behaved himself. But that’s beside the point. This is strike two on his record, messing with humans on the full moon. One more and I get to kill him,”

 

“What?!”

 

“Them’s the rules,” They said, as though they had made any sense at all. You felt dizzy. 

 

“Wait… So… The big wolf, last night…”

 

Cailin grinned and bowed. “Yours truly,”

 

“So you’re a werewolf?”

 

“Yep,”

 

“And… you turned Gylbart? That seemed like a good idea to you?”

 

Cailin smiled. “What better way to make a person respect the beasts of the forest than to make them one?”

 

You nodded slowly. Cailin tilted their head and looked over you appreciatively. “So you… bite people to punish them. And you punished Gylbart. And you have no qualms about turning people?”

 

“Nope,”

 

“So why not bite me?”

 

Cailin paused. They squinted at you thoughtfully. “I like you just the way you are,” They said, their face splitting into a wide, sharp grin, and their golden eyes sparkling. You nodded.

 

“Well, thank you for saving me… again. I’m going to go now. Here,” You shrugged off your coat and handed it to Cailin, who took it and pulled it on with an excited tug, wrapping it around themselves and snuggling deeper into it. It barely covered their upper thigh, but they seemed delighted with it. “You can keep that. As a thank you,”

 

“Okay!” They said, hopping to their feet and helping you to yours. You grabbed your basket of wilted flowers and cleared your throat. 

 

“Well! I’ll be seeing you!” you said, walking in a random direction.

 

“I can walk you back. You shouldn’t wander in these woods alone,” Cailin fell into step with you, leaning forward to catch your eye. “There’s worse than me around, you know,”

 

You frowned. “I know,” you looked away, “But I’m not some helpless lost fool, you know,”

 

“Maybe not,” Cailin said with their usual sharp smile, “But if that’s true, you have unusually bad luck, and can use my help all the same,”

 

“Unusually bad luck I might take,” You said, unable to stop yourself from smiling, “But… I’m afraid I disagree. I don’t need your help,”

 

“Would you like it? Even if it’s not something that you need?”

 

You turned and squinted at Cailin. Cailin recoiled.

 

“Oh- It’s because of… Its because I’m a shapeshifter, isn’t it?”

 

You bristled. “No! No, of course not! I just… My boyfriends house isn’t far from here,”

 

“Boyfriend? Oh!” Cailin beamed, “I wasn’t trying to get in your pants, you know. You always assume that,”

 

“It’s rooted in experience, not vanity,” You assured the wolf. They grinned eagerly, flicking their golden eyes over your frame.

 

“I’m sure it is,”

 

“See? That shit right there is why you set me off!” You said. Cailin laughed.

 

“I can’t help it! I got instincts. I promise to be a perfect gentlewolf, all the way to boyfriends house,”

 

“You just love walking me home, don’t you?”

 

“I just like following you around like a lost pup, that’s all,” Cailin cooed, drawing in a fraction of an inch closer. You frowned discouragingly. Cailin sighed and straightened back up. “Gentlewolf, I got it,”

 

Cailin followed you as you tried to find your way back, happily chatting about nothing. That was, until they mentioned trying to find you in town.

 

“I went to that shop of yours. The cute one with the white hair looked ready to cry when I told him I was looking for you. He said you were gone,”

 

“I don’t work there anymore,” You said coldly. Cailin pulled a face.

 

“Oh, you don’t? Did something happen?”

 

“Mm that sounds a whole bunch like none of your business,” 

 

Cailin laughed, sounding delighted. “Okay, okay, I’ll leave it,”

 

You pursed your lips and realised you recognised the path you were on. You made a sharp turn, and Cailin followed, those sharp golden eyes fixed on you. Soon enough, the hut came into view. Muriel was pacing nearby, and when you emerged from the treeline he rushed you, sweeping you clean off your feet and burying his face in your hair.

 

“Never scare me like that,”

 

“I’m fine,” You said, wrapping yourself up in him and smiling into his chest. 

 

Behind you, Cailin cleared their throat.

 

“Hello, Nameless boyfriend,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs: 
> 
> Lil Red Riding Hood, Amanda Seyfried
> 
> Wolf & I, Oh Land
> 
> Arsonists Lullaby, Hozier


	16. A Mountain And A Hard Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Muriel, meet Cailin. Cailin, fuck off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my wolf child they suck

“Muriel, this is Cailin,” You said quickly as he set you down and moved around you, placing you just barely behind his arm. “They saved me again last night,”

 

“Again?”

 

“Spot of trouble with a wolf. No big deal,” Cailin said, brushing their hair back out of their eyes. They made as though they were going to step forward and shake Muriel’s hand, but Muriel scowled and they smiled at him.

 

“You have a habit of being there at the right time,” Muriel said grimly. Cailin smiled.

 

“What can I say? I’m just kinda nice like that,”

 

“...And you’re wearing their coat,”

 

You paused, suddenly realising how that might look. Cailin looked completely at ease, despite being less than half Muriel’s weight. “Cailin is a werewolf and was changed last night. I gave them my coat in the morning to cover up,”

 

Muriel was watching Cailin warily. Cailin seemed entirely unperturbed. Like they were calling a bluff. You frowned. There was something in the air you couldn’t really understand. Almost like when you had left Asra but… worse.

 

“Nice of them, Huh?” Cailin cooed. “You got yourself a secret sweetheart. You’re a lucky guy,”

 

“Very,” Muriel agreed, pulling you further behind him. 

 

“You know at first I thought they were just kind of an asshole, but I think they just don’t trust people,”

 

“That so?”

 

“Yeah. Deep down they got a wild animal soul,”

 

Muriel glared at Cailin. “I noticed,”

 

“You don’t see that real often in a human,”

 

You were beginning to wonder what Cailin’s aim was. Muriel seemed seconds from sweeping you up and putting you in the house. Cailin looked at you again, gold eyes lighting up.

 

“You don’t see that real often at all. You know. A wild soul, young like that. It’s funny, really. Just how… different they are,”

 

“Thank you for bringing them home,” Muriel growled, in a tone of finishing the conversation. Cailin smiled. 

 

“Super cool meeting you, boyfriend,” Cailin said, catching your eye again. “And I’ll see you next time you get into some trouble,”

 

You frowned. “Hopefully I’m done with trouble,”

 

“You are,” Muriel grunted, urging you gently back to the house. Cailin smiled again.

 

“You can’t just have done with what’s in your veins, even if it only comes up once in a blue moon,”

 

“ _ Bye _ , Cailin, thank you for your help,” You said with firm finality. Cailin nodded, and peeled away into the woods. 

 

“You should have howled and called Inanna,” Muriel said, “You shouldn’t have wandered off. The woods are dangerous, and I can’t keep you safe if you don’t let me,”

 

“I don’t need to be kept safe!”

 

“Obviously you do, if even that…  _ person _ -“ He spat the noun like an insult, like being a person was a crime, “knows,”

 

“Muriel, please,” You said, “You’re…”

 

“I’m what? Failing?”

 

“... Failing? What are you talking about?”

 

Muriel ran his hand through his hair and looked down at you. “That’s three times. Three times I should have been there to help you, to save you, and that hunter was there instead,”

 

“It’s not your job!”

 

“I want it to be my job!”

 

You closed your mouth and looked up at him. He reached out, drawing you in, cupping your cheek, his calloused thumb running over your cheekbone. 

 

“I want to be the one you rely on,” He sighed. You reached out, pressing your hands against his sides, shuffling forward a little. 

 

“I do rely on you. I rely on your help every day, on the food you cook and the wood you carve. I rely on your house and your skills and you. Just because I have a bad habit of… almost getting killed and you can’t just… teleport to my side the instant trouble arises, doesn’t mean I don’t rely on you! I love  _ you _ , Muriel. I don’t need a saviour. I need a woodsy guy who smells like myhrr and makes me smile,”

 

“... I’m woodsy?”

 

“You live in a hut in the woods, Muriel,”

 

He gave you a little smile. “Woodsy…” 

 

You turned and pulled your stool over, climbing up onto it and pulling Muriel in, planting a kiss firmly on his lips and smiling into it. He kissed back, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you off the stool, turning you around and laying you down on the bed.

 

He caged you in with his arms and smiled again, looking at you with something warm in his eyes. You smiled back, reaching up to cup his face and pulling him in for a deep kiss. He hummed, more in his chest than anything, and you grinned. 

 

There was nothing about your life together that didn’t make you happy. If only the world could fall into step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs:
> 
> Cailin: The Wolf, Fever Ray
> 
> Apprentice: Wasteland, Baby!, Hozier
> 
> Muriel: Old Black Magic, Josh Ritter


	17. Feel Nothing, Fear less.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAA sorry I lost inspiration.

It started in the night. Tapping along the the walls and windows. It would awake Inanna, who would pace and growl and bark at the air. Tapping and the drag of something against the outside of the hut. Muriel was a heavy sleeper, and plagued by nightmares. You didn’t wake him. You just lay, looking at the ceiling of the hut and listening to the tapping.

 

You thought it might be human. What animal would do that? It was a slow tap, Calculated to tease, to prevent sleep. It was terrible. You wondered why it was happening. By the seventh night you were desperate to sleep. Aching for it. Muriel had even noticed, asking you why you looked so tired. Taking more gentle care of you, telling you to sleep in as he began to take more of your chores. But still, the tapping.

 

It wouldn’t stop. Tap. Tap. Scrape. Tap. Tap. Scrape. You sat up, walking to the door. You knew it was a bad idea. You said you were done with trouble. But you couldn’t sleep. You had to.

 

You broke the ward on the door and stepped out of it, shutting it tight behind you.

 

At first you didn’t see anyone. You wondered if you’d gone mad. If it had all been in your head.

 

But then you were pressed hard against the wall of the hut with a dagger at your throat and there he stood, a silver scar peeking out from under his collar and his once black eyes an unnatural gold. His hair, once neat, was shaggy and seemed darker, but that could just be the night. 

 

“Ah… Hello Gylbart,” You said, swallowing nervously. He licked his lips quickly, his eyes darting to the still open door.

 

“Scream and it’ll only be over quicker,”

 

“I wasn’t planning on screaming,” You said calmly. “I heard what happened to you,”

 

“That feral freak told you, did they? About how I woke up in a puddle of my own blood, body changing as every bone broke and reset?”

 

“... Am I supposed to feel bad for you? You would have killed me and now you’re back to finish the job,”

 

“I’m a monster, songbird!” Gylbart barked, looking full of anguish and despair.

 

“You always were,” You said plainly. Gylbart snarled, And pulled the knife away. He grabbed the back of your head by your hair and pulled you away from Muriel’s hut, forcing you to walk ahead of him. 

 

You wanted to cry out, to howl, but you knew you couldn’t, with the knife pressed to the small of your back and his twitchy demeanour. The woods did not suit Gylbart. He was a mess. He looked like he was having trouble surviving, wild- he had the nerve to call someone else feral?

 

You cleared your throat and licked your lips, eyes darting from tree to tree, wondering if the same truck would work twice.

 

“Gylbart…” You said, sweet as you could, “Where are you taking me?”

 

“To your death,”’He said, “And to my revenge,”

 

“One and the same, I assume,” You said, trying to sound brave as he pressed the tip into your back. 

 

“I want your blood like air. I didn’t before, but now… now I’m a beast and I crave it,” 

 

“Beasts don’t use knives,”

 

“But you understand them, don’t you? For now it’ll do the job. Just keep walking until I tell you to stop,”

 

So you did. You kept walking, deeper and deeper into the wood, until finally you had to draw to a stop, less at his word than his hand tight at the back of your head.

 

“Here,” He said, as you stopped. “here’ll do it, and you’ll have your wish,” He sheathed his knife and spun you, grasping your throat tight and stepping up close to you. You looked him in the eye and swallowed so that he could feel your throat press against his fingers. 

 

You didn’t hazard a reply as his teeth seemed to sharpen in the moonlight. You waited for the glint of action and relish in his eyes. Then you punched him square in the throat while channeling as much unrefined magic as you could into your fist. He toppled backward, staggering and gasping for breath. You bolted, tapping your throat quickly and letting out a loud, desperate howl. The sound was one of panic and anguish, and you knew, any wolf or dog in a ten kilometre radius would be either cowering in the corners of their dens or frothing at the mouth to be free, to reach you, either to help you or help tear you down. You sprinted, stumbling over exposed tree roots and darting through the trees as quickly as you could, your breath painful in your lungs and your legs burning as you forced them forward, but you were no match.

 

No human can outrun a wolf. 

 

Gylbart tackled you to the ground and turned you over to face him, pinning you down and baring a set of sharp teeth he hadn’t had before. You struggled vainly against his inhuman strength, moving to bite and kick with as much vigor as you could muster after your bid for freedom, but you couldn’t make him move.

 

“Troublesome little canary,” He growled, hair swinging forth and framing his face, casting most of his features into shadow, save his eyes, his once black eyes now seemed to glint, almost glow, reflect a light that you didn’t know the source of. 

 

“Kill me then and have done with it,” You snapped, and he made to finish the job, but then he was hurled back by a heavy blow to the chest, and you were scooped up, set on your feet as the scent of myrrh swirled amongst your senses. 

 

“Muriel,” You cooed, pressing your forehead to him. But he didn’t allow you to continue so. He shifted you behind him. 

 

“Who the hell are you?” Gylbart snarled, wiping blood from his lip. Muriel grit his teeth and inhaled deeply, his arms even shifted with the size of it.

 

But he said nothing, and you felt in your bones his reply.  _ One of the last things you’ll ever see. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me And The Devil, soap&skin


	18. Baby Can I Hold You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... Sorryyyy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof it's been a minute. I straight up couldnt get this chapter to feel right. It;s still not what I wanted but It's been way too long

“Hide,” Muriel growled, low in his throat, and you obeyed without argument. You half thought it was because he didn’t want you to see what was about to happen, or at least that it was a part of it. You tucked yourself behind a broad tree and closed your eyes, listening to the sound of thudding and grunts. Muriel must have been fighting him, and your heart was in your throat. You squeezed your eyes tighter, and your fists curled too, tight, so tight that they hurt.

 

But… There were hands. One on your wrist, one on your chin. Your eyes flew open, and there they were. Grey hair, golden eyes, sharp teeth flashing through their sad little smile.

 

“I heard you call,” Cailin breathed, almost too quiet for you to hear, despite how close you were. “I heard you. I thought you were going to stay out of trouble, Nameless,” 

 

“Trouble finds me,” You hissed back, “... can you… can you help Muriel? Please?”

 

Cailin’s smile grew sadder. “Ah, boyfriend needs a hand, huh?”

 

“Please, Cailin,”

 

The sound of their name seemed to steele them. Their usual cheeky grin was back, and they straightened up, tugging on the lapels of the coat you had given them.

 

“Leave it to me, Nameless Wonder,” They winked, “Boyfriend’s in  _ great _ hands,” and they bolted off toward the fight. You scrambled around the trunk and peered out, just in time to see Cailin rip Gylbart from Muriel’s back, where he had been clinging, and slam him into the ground.

 

“Strike three, beast boy!” Cailin called, winding up for a blow. 

 

They fought. Both Gylbart and Cailin were so fast, like animals, and seeing it made you thankful Cailin had shown up. Muriel was incredibly strong, and pretty fast too, but… they weren’t human. There was a moment where time seemed to slow, and you lunged forward, your pocket catching on something and ripping. Your cards spilled out, only one landing face up as you tripped, winding up barely an inch from the three of swords. 

 

Your breath left your lungs. “Cailin!” You bellowed, scrambling out and to your feet. 

 

A flash of metal. Gold eyes wide with shock. Lips parted in surprise.

 

Gylbart had buried his knife in Cailin’s stomach. It seemed like slow motion, that they reached down and pulled the knife out, seemingly oblivious to Muriel grabbing Gylbart and heaving him into the air, slamming him into a tree and holding him there. Cailin toppled backward, onto the ground, but in another heartbeat you were there, one hand on their wound, applying pressure, the other under their head.

 

“... Hey, Nameless...” Cailin said, eyes a little glazed. They reached down and grabbed your hand from their wound, clutching it desperately. “Hey… I think… I think that knife was… silver,”

 

“Who cares? You’re going to be fine, Cailin, it’s just a scratch-“

 

“Remember the night we met?”

 

“When I was so drunk I damn near fell in the river?” You said, moving to apply pressure again, but being held fast in the werewolf’s grip.

 

“When you sang? That sea shanty? It’s been stuck in  my head ever since. In your voice, your real voice, even though… even though you’ve never sung to me in your real voice. I can imagine it, you know? I can hear it in my head. The way your voice would curl around those verses…”

 

“Shut up! You’re talking nonsense. Stop it-“ You said, shaking your head and blinking away tears. Cailin’s free hand reached up and cupped your cheek, their thumb tracing along under your eye, wiping away an errant teardrop. They smiled.

 

But Cailin turned their head to Muriel, still holding Gylbart immobile against a tree. “Promise, boyfriend. Promise you’ll take care of Nameless,”

 

Muriel just stared, wide eyed and unable to help as Cailin started to cough up blood. 

 

“Promise!”

 

Muriel nodded jerkily. Cailin relaxed and returned their gaze to you. “Sing me out, Nameless. I think… I think I can hear the old man now…”

 

“What- You’re talking crazy-“

 

“Please, just… just one verse. One verse in your real voice,”

 

You took a shuddering breath, and shook your head. “I don’t sing,” 

 

“Just this once... just…”

 

You couldn’t hold out any longer. Cailin was fading. You bent your head, and through tight vocal chords, you warbled. 

 

“We swear by rote for want of more

"Leave her, Johnny, leave her!"

But now we're through so we'll go on shore

And it's time for us to leave her

 

Leave her, Johnny, leave her!

Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her!

For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow

And it's time for us to leave-“

 

Cailin’s hands slipped down onto the ground, and they lay still, staring blankly at your face. You grit your teeth, and you slid those blank eyes closed before getting to your feet. Muriel had let Gylbart slide to the ground, and they were both staring at you as you looked down at your dead friend. Your pretty singer, your enthusiastic saviour.

 

You did it before you could think it through. One spell, and the knife shot from its place on the ground and straight between Gylbart’s eyebrows, right through to the bark of the tree behind him. 

 

His death did not bring Cailin back.

 

Cailin remained unmoving and blank. There was no lecherous grin or hyperactive eyebrows. There was no flirting or questions or graceful movements. Gylbart was dead, but his death had come too late. You screamed. You stood, you turned to the body pinned to the tree, and you screamed so loud that the forest itself seemed to wake. Leaves trembled and the ground seemed to quake as you leaned into your bellow, feeling your vocal chords protest and not caring. Muriel shifted quickly behind you, wrapping his arms around you comfortingly, and you gripped his wide forearms tightly, as though he was the only thing anchoring you to the earth.

 

You screamed until you couldn’t anymore. You screamed until you slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:
> 
> If Not Now..., Tracy Chapman
> 
> For You, Tracy Chapman


	19. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gravedigger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m... drunk

The morning after Cailin’s death was sunny and bright. The forest did not realise its guardian was gone. The birds still sang, the foxes still hunted, the leaves still rustled lazily in the breeze. 

 

Not a soul truly mourned- save for you. 

 

You took Muriel’s shovel and you dug a hole, deep, deep into the ground at the base of a massive birch tree. You burrowed into the earth where it was cool and damp and the worms writhed under your gaze. You did it by hand, not magic, and when the hole was well above your head and you were having trouble actually getting the dirt you were digging out, you lowered the shrouded body into the earth on a plank and ropes, throwing your coat over them like a blanket, because it really was cold down, away from the sun. You climbed out of the hole and you shovelled the dirt in to cover Cailin’s body, thinking over how quickly you could grow to love a friend.

 

It didn’t take long at all.  

 

Once the body was buried, you planted violets and mint over the grave, plants that would spread and cover the ground. When all was finished, you took the knife that had killed them, and you buried it to the hilt in the earth, at the crux of two thick tree roots. 

 

“It’ll never harm a soul again,” You promised the great, tall tree. The wind rustled its leaves, and you swallowed. There was the low rumble of a throat being cleared, and you turned, thoughtlessly wiping away a tear with a dirty hand. Muriel stood, holding a bundle of fabric in his hands and eyeing the fresh grave. You sniffed.

 

“I’m sorry,”

 

You nodded and looked down at the grave. “They did it because I asked them to. They helped because I asked them to,”

 

Muriel said nothing. He simply walked over and sat down, pulling you closer so you could lean on his chest. you relaxed into him, considering the grave. he pressed the fabric bundle into your hands, and you undid the knot. It was a ploughman’s lunch, double portioned for you to share, and you did. You both are, contemplating the grave and the person who lay in it, and holding one another tight.

 

Gylbart lay where he had fallen, for the scavengers to take what they wanted. No one looked for him. No one seemed to care that he was gone.

 

At the end of the day, bone tired and cried out, you sat by the fire. Your voice found its place once more as you looked into the flames. 

 

“I… I need to talk to Asra,”

 

Muriel tensed, and looked over at you. He said nothing. You nodded to yourself.

 

“He was my only friend for ages. My only comfort until you. I need to talk to him. To talk things through,”

 

“It… wasn’t your fault,”

 

You looked up at Muriel. Lots of things were your fault. The rift between Muriel and Asra. Asra’s pain. Cailin’s death. 

 

“I… wasn’t supposed to… I shouldn’t have started things with you. I knew better. It wasn’t your fault because you…”

 

“You… knew better? You knew better than to love me?” You said, your already aching heart bleeding afresh in your chest. 

 

“No- that’s not-“

 

“Muriel, what did you mean then?”

 

“Asra loves you!” He snapped, face flushing. “He loves you all along,”

 

Your stomach dropped. Asra… had loved you?

 

“He… He loves you from the first moment he met you. We’ve been friends his whole life. He and I. And… You loved each other. It was always you and him. Him and you. I… I was watching. You used to laugh together. He was always amazed at your every move. You were so strong- then… Well. You can’t remember it now. But he looked after you. He brought you back. And I watched from afar. He was the only one who could remember me, and I liked it that way. But you… You ripped up those traps and I knew how you looked when you were happy- and you were never happy anymore. You never smiled anymore, not really… I just wanted to see you smile at first- then I… I wanted more. And I’m so selfish-“

 

You shook your head, rocketing to your feet and grasping his face in both hands. “Muriel, I love you. All of that doesn’t matter. I  _ choose  _ you,”

 

“Asra-“

 

“Asra is our friend if he wants to be. But you were there, and he decided to distance himself from me when I needed him,”

 

Muriel swallowed. You pressed your lips to his softly, slowly, lovingly. Choices, choices. You had made yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SONGS!!!!:
> 
> Way Down We Go, KALEO
> 
> Never Meant To Be, Welshy Arms
> 
> Ain’t No Angel, Ron Pope


	20. Make Things Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You talk to Asra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so touched by the amount of feedback i got about Cailin. I can’t believe that people actually liked an OC of mine! 
> 
> (Maybe I’ll do a oneshot backstory on them. And maybe my next piece would be a fan apprentice piece... lemme know if anyone wants to know more about the wolf child or meet more OCS)
> 
> ps. I didn’t edit SHIT this chap

You pulled your bag higher on your shoulder, and you pushed the familiar door wide. The shop smelled the same. It looked the same too. The floorboards creaked as they always had, and you felt… comfortable. At home. But… below the comfortable, cozy feeling, there was a full ache. You stood, a stranger in the place you used to live. Perhaps even unwelcome. Perhaps unwanted.

 

You cleared your throat nervously, and lifted your voice as high as you dared, cringing at the sound of it, weak and unsteady, tremulous and half hearted.

 

“Hello?”

 

There was a sudden silence. A complete stillness. An absence of background noise. Then it came. Quick footsteps, the slide of curtain rings in the rod, and Asra stood in the way of the stairs. 

 

“... Is that… is it really you? Not another dream, no apparition or illusion… No shimmering mirage… is it really-“

 

“It’s me…” You said, moving your arms out from your sides awkwardly, swallowing. “It’s really me,”

 

Asra walked forward, quickly standing toe to toe with you, and taking you face in his hands. He looked over you, searched your eyes, and after a moment, his shoulders slackened.

 

“You… You’re not back to stay, are you?” He said, trying his best to hide the disappointment in his voice. You shook your head in his hands, and he stepped back, dropping them from you entirely. He cleared his throat and looked away from you.

 

“Well! If you’re back for supplies-“

 

“I’m back for you, Asra,”

 

He stilled, and turned his eyes on you again. There was so much held in them. So much.

 

“... Ah… and what can I do for you?”

 

You shook your head. “I don’t need anything from you. I… I’m here to talk. I’m making a choice here- well, not here… I’m making a choice soon. Something happened recently, and… and it made me think. I wanted to, at the very least, make things right. Ideally, I’ll fix things altogether, but the best part of a psychic’s power is-“

 

“A sturdy sense of realism,” Asra completed, nodding sagely. “Come in. We’ll have a cup of tea,”

 

“Maybe two,” You ventured with a wry smile. Asra twitched, as though a response had been brought to the tip of his tongue, but he snatched it back from its precipice, and simply offered a smile.

 

You both settled in, and you exerted yourself in small talk. Asra slowly brightened, and eventually he began to laugh at your jokes as he used to. His eyes reasoned something of their sparkle, and his smile, its edge. 

 

By the time the tea was drunk and you were both comfortable, he cast you a sudden, sharp look, and the corners of his mouth faltered slightly. 

 

“I assume you didn’t come home just to ask about how the local’s window boxes are growing,” 

 

You let your smile fall a little too, and turned your empty mug in your hands. “... I… I wanted to apologise. The way I acted was unfair to you, and I don’t want to let hurt fester here, where so much of my heart lies. You’ll always be my oldest friend,”

 

Asra’s mouth thinned slightly at the word friend, but other than that he seemed unaltered.

 

“And what triggered this revolution of ideas?” He asked sharply.

 

You looked, rather than spoke, your confusion. Asra smiled, a little bitterly.

 

“You and Muriel haven’t had an argument, have you?”

 

You flushed and shook your head. “No, no, nothing like that. I… There’s been… I held a friend of mine as they died, and since then… since then life has seemed so much shorter, so much more unsure… I can’t imagine if something happened to either of us, and the last thing that I had said to you-“

 

“Something happened to me,” Asra said, his expression darkening, “You mean if something happened to me,”

 

You looked at him with fresh surprise. “Or me. I meant what I said. If something happened to either of us,”

 

Asra coloured slightly, his eyes widening incrementally. “Well, that’s unlikely, isn’t it?”

 

You scowled, setting your mug down completely and meeting his eyes fiercely. “No. It’s not. I… I’ve come to a decision,”

 

Asra tilted his head. “What decision?”

 

You cleared your throat. “I… I’m going to become the guardian of the forest,”

 

Asra gaped at you. “The… the guardian of the…” He shook his head. “If anything, you need a guardian from the forest. The forest already has a heart,”

 

You straightened up a little, puffing your chest out and furrowing your brow. “But it recently lost its teeth,”

 

Asra blinked, then his eyes widened. “That little… the pretty one, the one who asked for you-“

 

Your whole body trembled, You buckled in a little on yourself. Asra stopped dead. He reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently.

 

“I’m sorry,”

 

You squeezed back, looking sharply away from him to hide the tears that welled up in your eyes at the thought of Cailin. You sat like that for a while, and after a while, Asra cleared his throat again. 

 

“If… if you’re going to start guarding the forest… it might be a good idea if you picked your lessons back up. Do you… do you want to… you don’t have to move back in. You can just… come every other day around five?”

 

You smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice. I’d love to,”

 

Asra’s smile lit up the whole room, and you smiled tearfully back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs: 
> 
> My Type, Saint Motel
> 
> In The Middle, dodie


	21. The gift of understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was drunk last night when I finished this and i’m not brave enough to read it back yet so leggo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stuff probably happens idk

You were in the woods, working on a spell, trying to perfect it. You’d shed as much clothing as you dared in the quiet wood, and still, you were working up a sweat. You couldn’t get it right, no matter what you did. It had been weeks since you’d made the decision to guard the forest, and you had been working harder than you ever had before toward that goal. You were exercising as heavily as you could while still being able to do your share of the chores. You were creating your own spells in order to keep poachers at bay and help any creatures that were harmed.

 

You were startled out of your reverie by a twig snapping, and a rustle behind you. You turned, holding out one hand to stay the unknown threat, and gripping your other into a tight fist, ready for a fight. 

 

Muriel stood, leaning against a tree, his eyes dark and his mouth drawn into a thin line. You relaxed.

 

“Sorry. You…” You corrected yourself. “I’m feeling jumpy today,”

 

“You’ve been out here for a long time,” His eyes roamed over your sweaty, underdressed form. “... You should… come back home,”

 

You nodded, walking forward with the hobbling step of a person who pushed themselves too far. Muriel pursed his lips tighter in disapproval, then swept you off your feet. You made a small squeaking noise as he drew you into his broad, firm chest. 

 

“Remember… remember the first time we met?”

 

You smiled. “When I screamed at you to back off because I thought you were a poacher?”

 

Muriel’s lip quirked, and he flushed. “When you exhausted yourself healing Inanna’s broken leg,”

 

You nodded. “I remember,”

 

“You’ve always pushed yourself too hard. You’ve always… been… prone to hurting yourself for other’s sake,” 

 

You looked down at your own hands, at the way you’d folded them in your lap. “I just want to help-“

 

“Would you walk into the hut and begin burning my carvings?”

 

You gaped up at him. “No I’d never! Why would you say that?”

 

“What if someone was freezing?”

 

You hesitated. “No, we have firewood,”

 

“And if we had none left?”

 

“Then I’d go and cut down a tree,” You said, brow furrowed. Muriel finally met your eye, his own flashing.

 

“If you wouldn’t burn useless pieces of wood because I made them, then why would you risk the thing I care about most? Think of another way… cut down the tree,”

 

You fell completely silent, a chill running down your spine. 

 

“I know you aren’t mine. I know you can make your own decisions… But I would burn the world to keep you safe. I know you care about people, I don’t understand… but… I know. So please. Be gentle with yourself…” He trailed off, and broke eye contact, ducking under a branch. 

 

You swallowed, and by the time he had set you down on the bed, you could only really think of one thing. You looked up at him, hastily wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye. You looked up at him unwaveringly.

 

“Kiss me,”

 

Muriel stopped and pressed his lips to your forehead. He stepped back quickly, though and turned to the fireplace, picking up a little cloth wrapped object from the mantle and turning back around to face you. His face was flushed, and his eyes were fixed on the floor.

“I’ve… I’ve been working on these for a long time. Finally finished them. Here,”

 

He dropped the little cloth wrapped package in your lap, determinedly examining the seam where the wall met the roof, jaw set.

 

“You didn’t have to-“

 

“Well… I did,”

 

You bit your lip and untied the knot of the cloth, letting it fall open over…

 

“Oh, Muriel, it’s beautiful!” it was a little round wooden box, the lid carved to fit very snug and secure around the lip of the box below. 

 

“That’s not the gift,” He said shortly. “It’s just the container,”

 

“Oh,” You opened it, and drew out another cloth, a circle bag with a simple cotton tassel that when you opened all the way revealed a collection of little wooden octagons, each with a rune carefully painted in silver leaf and varnished carefully so that they would last. You couldn’t even gasp. All breath left your body, and you couldn’t do anything but look at them. You hesitated even to touch, your fingers trembled so. Muriel turned to you, a look of nervous suspense on his face. You quickly wiped your eyes and let out a strangled sob. Muriel rushed forward, but stopped himself.

 

“I’m sorry, it’s a bad time- I shouldn’t have-“

 

“They’re beautiful, Muriel,” You picked one up and laughed, holding it up for him to see. “I love them. Gebo, look, a gift. and here…” You plucked another and laughed. “Dagaz, progress! and here, right at the top, Wunjo!” You burst into tears and carefully placed them back into the box, setting it on a nearby end table and then flinging yourself at Muriel, holding onto him like he was your lifeline. “Thank you,”

 

Muriel swept you up again set you back down on the bed, gently brushing your hair back. “You’re exhausted…”

 

“Lay with me,” You whispered, tightening your grip on the collar of his cloak. He looked up, taking your hands and quickly pressing a kiss to each of your wrists. He then stood. 

 

“I will, but give me a moment. I have to lock up and call Inanna in,”

 

You nodded, and let him tuck you in. By the time he settled in next to you, you were half asleep, and you were glad he wordlessly pulled you closer to him, silent and comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs:   
> Good News, K. Flay 
> 
> Only The Dark, K. Flay

**Author's Note:**

> overall songs: 
> 
> Moment's Silence (Common Tongue), Hozier
> 
> dear insecurity (feat. ben abraham), gnash, Ben Abraham
> 
> don't worry, you will, lovelytheband


End file.
